


the earth spins in your orbit

by analogoose



Category: Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: Corporate AU, F/F, badass CFO Beatrice, corporate crack that somehow turned into angst im sorry, ft. himbo PA Teresa, lots of pining, more tags to come, newly-appointed CEO Ava, slow-burn, special tag for Adriel's man bun, the more tags:
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26992153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/analogoose/pseuds/analogoose
Summary: In celebration of her last night of freedom, Ava decides to go out to a club, get stupid drunk, and take home a pretty stranger. The next morning, she walks into work and sees the very same girl from last night standing next to the Chairman of the Board.Quarterly business meetings are about to getreallyinteresting.-(Or: you sleep with your future coworker the night before your new job. Cue awkward conversations, workplace drama, and pining after your employee who wants nothing to do with you)
Relationships: Shotgun Mary/Shannon Masters, Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva
Comments: 238
Kudos: 600





	1. Enchanté

She is greeted by the pounding music, the pulsing bodies, and the flashing strobe lights. The song pumping from the subwoofers is unrecognizable to Ava but that doesn’t stop her from moving her body in time with the beat as she shimmies her way over to the bar for a much-needed drink. 

Not even a minute in and she’s already experiencing a rush of euphoria from just entering the club. Ava inhales, the mixed stench of liquor, sweat, and cigarette smoke permeating her nostrils. God she had missed this.

She’s already feeling loose, the half bottle of wine she had before taking a cab over finally starting to kick in, so she just needs a little something more to push her over the edge. Ava leans over the bar, calling out for two shots of tequila and flashing her fake at the bartender. _Yes, it’s a fake,_ but she’s turning 21 in a couple of hours so sue her if she wants to get a head start. 

It’s her last night of freedom before she has to start her new job tomorrow and she’s definitely going to make the most of it before she has to be chained to a desk for the rest of her life. Tonight, she’s going to get stupid drunk, dance her heart out, and maybe even take home a pretty girl. 

Ava quickly downs the shots, slamming the glasses on the counter. The tequila burns down the back of her throat, warming up her insides as she becomes one with the pulsating bodies. She lets herself get lost in the sensation, her back flush against another body as she feels the movement of someone’s hips gyrating against her ass, fingertips pressed into her waist as she sways side to side. 

After a couple rounds of dancing, Ava comes around to the bar again, her mouth open to shout for a Cosmo this time when she spots the most attractive woman she has ever seen in her peripheral. Raven black hair cascading down to her shoulders. She’s wearing a silk, white blouse with a few of the top buttons undone—giving Ava the perfect view of her neck _(god, her neck)_ —tucked into navy palazzos. 

Ava can’t help but stare, transfixed, her mouth still open. 

A drunk dudebro bumps into her, breaking Ava out of her fascination. She clears her throat and sidles next to the woman in what she hopes is a smooth maneuver in all her drunken bearings. “Two Negronis,” she calls out, leaning over the counter, before directing her gaze back at the woman beside her.

“Come here often?” Ava shouts over the pulse of the music. She knows it’s a shit line, but hey, it gets the woman’s attention. The woman looks over at Ava, eyes raking over her body appreciatively, taking in the silver sparkly sequin that perfectly accentuates all of her curves. The corner of the woman’s lips quirk into an amused smile. “Not as often as I’d like. Something tells me you’re here a lot, though.” 

_A British accent? That’s soo hot._ Her eyes glitter playfully, “Now what would give you that impression?” The bartender sets two glasses in front of her and Ava slides one to the attractive woman. 

The woman raises the glass in a mock cheers before taking a sip. Her throat bobs as she swallows, a pleasant hum escaping her lips. Ava watches the motion, mesmerized. She begins to feel herself sway slightly, her body finally starting to catch up with the effects of the alcohol. She takes a sip of her own to quench the sudden dryness in her throat. 

“So what brought you out here tonight?” 

The woman pauses, thinking of how to phrase her answer. It’s at this moment that Ava realizes how _young_ the woman is, she looks around the same age as Ava but she carries herself with the confidence and grace of someone much older. 

“Work has become frustrating. We have a new hire coming in, it’s a completely unnecessary move—” Her jaw works silently, before relaxing, “but it’s out of my hands.”

Ava nods sagely. “Disrupting the balance, I get that.” 

The woman laughs, murmuring an agreement. She nods to Ava, “And you?”

Ava sighs wistfully, studying her drink, ice cubes clinking against the glass. “I start my new job tomorrow.” 

The woman tips her head in confused amusement. “Isn’t that cause for celebration?”

“It is if you’re not going to be chained to a desk for the rest of your life.”

She hums. “What will you be doing?”

Ava shrugs. “Not sure. Something in industry...tech, maybe?” She couldn’t care less and she’d rather not spend the night talking about the one thing she’s trying to forget tonight. “Just a boring desk job, really. What about you?” 

The woman takes a sip of red. “I work in finance.”

Well, that explains why she looks like she stumbled right off of Wall Street. Rich, classy business woman with a British accent. _Nice._ What Ava says next can be entirely blamed on the alcohol and not on her loose brain-to-mouth filter. “Ooh, I like a girl who knows her numbers.” Ava flashes a dazzling grin. 

At that, the woman throws her head back and laughs. Her face is bright and animated under the flashing strobe lights. _She’s so fucking pretty._ She gets up from her stool and offers a hand to Ava. “Care to dance?”

Ava lights up, finishing the last of her drink, and grabs the woman’s outstretched hand. 

-

Ava doesn’t know when they ended up in the alleyway behind the club, all she knows is that she is enjoying it. _Very much._

Ava’s back uncomfortably presses up against the wall, but she couldn’t care less at this point. She receives the woman’s kiss passionately, mouth moving against hers. She feels a tongue swipe across her lips and her mouth parts to grant access. The woman eagerly swallows up her moan as she presses Ava harder against the wall.

_Holy fuck._

Her hands are tangled in the woman’s hair as she moves her mouth against the other woman’s. She feels roaming touches down her spine before one hand moves to her hips, fingers pressing, their bodies flush against each other. 

Ava’s nails graze a particularly sensitive spot behind the woman’s ear and she feels her sigh into the kiss. Upon noticing this, Ava tears her mouth away from the other woman’s with great difficulty and starts placing open-mouth kisses down her neck. Having caught the woman off-guard, she takes this moment to flip their positions and now it’s her pressing the woman against the wall and god, it feels _so, so good._

The woman throws her head back and she lets out a small whimper, _she fucking whimpers,_ and Ava has never felt more turned on in her entire life. She wants more. She _needs_ more. 

“I have a room,” she peppers more open-mouth kisses across her collarbone, one hand sliding up under the woman’s top, lightly grazing her breasts, “at The Archer.” 

The woman shudders, her chest heaving up and down as she rests her head against the wall, taking a moment to gather herself. Her pupils are blown. “Let’s go,” she replies breathlessly. 

They manage to pull themselves away from each other long enough to call a cab. The ride to Ava’s hotel is filled with charged silence. She’s embarrassed to admit that they even made out a few times in the back of that cab, much to the driver’s dismay, who did his very best to ignore them.

Ava makes sure to leave him a generous tip, giving a drunken wave to the cab as the driver speeds off, glad to be rid of the pair that almost had sex in the back of his cab. 

They make out a few more times before they get up to Ava’s room. Once, very briefly by the entrance, in front of a very uncomfortable doorman. Then, for a bit longer inside the—thankfully, empty—elevator, and finally, right outside Ava’s door as she fumbles in her pocket to find her key card. 

“Ava,” she announces. The woman pauses her kissing, pulling back from Ava’s neck with a raised eyebrow. “So you know what name to scream when I make you come tonight.” Ava licks her lips. “Again and _again_ …”

The woman lets out a breathless laugh. “We’ll see,” she replies before kissing the wicked grin right off of Ava’s face.

-

Ava wakes up with her muscles pleasantly sore from last night’s activities. _Best birthday present ever._ She smiles slightly, sleepily burrowing her face further into the pillows. A hand stretches out to pat the space beside her. It’s cold and empty.

Ava sighs, disappointed but not really surprised. Club Hottie didn’t seem like the type to stick around. She sits up on the bed and groans, eyes blinking blearily. She reaches over to the nightstand and taps her phone, squinting at the numbers on the bright screen. 

Her eyes widen. “Fuck! Shit! I’m going to be late.” Ava throws the covers off and stumbles out of bed, desperately rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She even slaps her cheeks a few good times as she hobbles around the room in search of her clothes, murmuring, “Wake the fuck up, Silva. Get your shit together.” 

The next fifteen minutes are spent trying to frantically get ready before her ride arrives. Last night’s clothes are stuffed into her suitcase, along with whatever else is laying around her room. Ava stares at herself in the mirror, hands frantically smoothing her top, trying to get rid of any wayward wrinkles or creases. 

She stops, her hands shakily coming to rest against her sides as she studies her reflection. A large breath releases from her lungs. Today was the first day of the rest of her life. In just two hours, Ava would become the new face of OCS International. 

She’s startled out of the beginnings of her spiral by a loud knock on the door. Ava releases a shaky breath and pads over to open the door. 

“Happy birthday, _princesa!_ I hope you didn’t get into too much trouble last night,” the man jokes, a knowing look glittering in his eyes. 

“Uncle Vincent,” she breathes out, and sweeps in him an unexpected hug. The man stumbles over the threshold, his arms coming up to rest against her back. His beard scratches the top of her head as she burrows her face into his chest. 

A feeling of relief washes over Ava. After her adoptive family’s death, Vincent had stepped in to guide Ava. He had remained by her side ever since the day he found her hiding in one of the trees at their funeral. Even when she ran away from home, Vincent had remained in contact with her. Never pushing or demanding, but always there if she needed anything. 

“No present?” Ava pouts, pulling back from the hug to put on her best ‘hurt puppy’ expression. She’s been practicing. 

Vincent lets out a deep belly laugh. “I’m putting you in charge of a multimillion-dollar company today, I’d say that’s a present big enough to last a lifetime.” 

Ava winces at the unhappy reminder of what her life was about to become. 

“Hey,” Vincent calls out, distracting Ava’s thoughts from spiraling. He lifts her chin with two fingers. “You will do great. We’ve had our PR team plant hints for the past three weeks, but the official press release is scheduled to drop in an hour.” He squeezes her shoulders affectionately, “I’m just here to take you to the board.” 

Ava gives a shaky nod and smooths her outfit one last time before grabbing her belongings and trailing behind Vincent as they make their way down to the lobby. On their way out, Vincent picks up a banana from the breakfast bar, handing it to Ava with a knowing look on his face. She scowls, but accepts the fruit. He’s aware she’s not a breakfast person, but they both know that Ava will need all the energy she can get to make it through today. 

A black, nondescript SUV waits for them outside the doors of the hotel. Vincent opens the back door for her, nodding at her encouragingly.

“I don’t remember you calling dibs on shotgun,” Ava teases.

“My apologies,” he replies, eyes twinkling with unrestrained mirth. 

Slightly irritated that Vincent hadn’t fallen for her obvious attempt at stalling the inevitable, Ava clutches her banana tighter and gets in. The driver offers a nod to them both before pulling out onto the busy streets of New York. 

She peels her banana, stuffing half of it inside her mouth until her cheeks are bulging like a chipmunk. “Is there anyone I should be worried about?” She asks, the words sounding barely recognizable.

Vincent’s face scrunches up in thought. “Our Chairman of the Board—Superion—she is very... _serious._ Unyielding, at times. I advise you to be cautious around her.” 

Ava stops chewing. “What kind of name is _Superion?_ ”

Vincent chuckles. “I don’t recommend you calling that to her face unless you want to be pushed off the roof of the building. It’s a nickname we’ve taken to calling her, but her real name is Martiana.” He scratches his beard, making eye contact with Ava through the rearview, “Your team is very good. I think you and Beatrice might get along really well.” 

Ava cocks her head. 

“Our CFO,” Vincent clarifies. “She can be a little reserved, at times. But, she’s a very good asset to have. Very loyal to the company.” 

OCS International looms into view and Ava’s chest tightens. She’s almost positive the occupants of this car can hear the unsteady _ba-dum ba-dum_ of her traitorous heart. The driver turns around the corner, pulling them into a parking garage underneath the building. They find a space near the elevator and the car finally comes to a stop, engine idling.

Ava’s eyes dart between the back of the driver’s head then at Vincent’s, one leg now bouncing rapidly in her seat. “What if I don’t want this?” She shakes her head,” I’m not ready. I mean, I haven’t even—”

_“Ava.”_

Her voice cuts out, mouth still moving soundlessly as she tries to grapple with this seriously _life-changing_ event. Ava has known about this ever since her foster parents died and their lawyers sat down with an eight-year-old Ava and the board members of OCS International to execute their will. She’s had thirteen years to prepare, but that doesn’t make the reality of this moment any less jarring. She’s stepping into a life that was never meant for her. In all honesty, she should have been dead in that car crash with her mother. 

Vincent sighs, turning around in his seat to face her. “Your adoptive parents only got to know you for three months, but in that time, they were absolutely taken with who you were. Many times, I heard them talk about your tenacity.” He pauses, “Sophia and Victor had to make many hard decisions in their lifetime, but I think this was probably their easiest.” 

Ava rolls her eyes. “They knew me when I was eight. I’m not some little kid anymore.”

Vincent sighs. “They trusted you, Ava.” He reaches back to squeeze her knee in comfort. “And I trust you, too.” 

Her expression is still morose, but the panic in Ava’s chest has quieted down to a small whisper. “And everyone else?”

His lips quirk up into a small smile. “That, too, will come with time.” He unbuckles his seatbelt, opening his door to step out of the car. Ava follows suit, albeit a little more slowly. He gives her a small nod of encouragement, hand resting between her shoulder blades. Ava heaves a sigh, dropping her banana peel into the compost bin—of course she’s not going to leave it for the driver, she’s not a _complete_ heathen—before following Vincent into the elevator. The lift steadily climbs up, the screen displaying the floor numbers increasing in value until an audible _ding_ is heard. 

_Alright Ava, game face on._

She steps out of the elevator, making her way to the double doors at the end of the hall. Vincent stops her right outside the doors. “Ready?” He asks.

Ava takes a deep breath, wiggles her shoulders a few times before steeling herself. 

_Showtime._

Vincent pushes the doors open and all the chatter in the room immediately comes to a stop as everyone turns to face the newcomer that they had all been anticipating. 

A much older woman standing at the head of the table claps her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Now that we’re all here,” She pointedly directs her gaze to Ava, who can’t help but shrink under the intense stare, “let’s get started.” 

Everyone slowly begins filing into their seats but Ava’s feet remain stuck in the ground. If she were in her right state of mind, her brain would focus on the badass scar that runs on the right side of this woman’s face, obviously signaling that this was _The_ _Boss Bitch_ , but she can’t focus on anything right now because standing next to Boss Bitch is none other than the club hottie from last night. She’s wearing an outfit similar to the one she wore last night except now she has on a blazer and her hair rests in a bun. 

Club Hottie stiffens, eyes widening as she makes the connection between Ava-from-last-night and Ava-her-soon-to-be-new-CEO. Ava is almost sure that they’re both thinking the same thing. 

Quarterly business meetings are about to get _really_ interesting. 

Vincent gently nudges Ava to move. “Sorry,” she mutters quietly and takes the seat on the other side of Boss Bitch, right across from the club hottie. _Awkward._

Vincent leans in close to her ear, “That’s our Chairman,” he nods at Boss Bitch sitting at the head of the table, only a foot away from Ava. She gulps when Superion’s piercing gaze lands on her again, if only for a brief moment. 

“And who’s the one sitting next to her?” Her stomach drops. She’s already anticipating Vincent’s answer, bracing for impact. 

“That’s our CFO I told you about.”

And there it is. 

_“Beatrice,”_ Ava’s lips soundlessly trace the name. Even though she hadn’t made a sound, Club Hottie still looks up at the mention of her name, eyes meeting Ava’s before quickly flitting away. Vincent may have high hopes for his formidable CEO-CFO duo, but Ava doesn’t think anything like that will be happening anytime soon.

“And next to her is Lilith, our COO. Then Camila, our CTO.” Vincent pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “And the one standing behind Lilith—by the windows—is Mary, our CIO.” 

Ava nods dutifully, taking in Vincent’s mini info-dump. Her mind is still reeling from the shock of meeting Club Hottie the very next day after a night of some very _ahem_ mind-blowing orgasms. She never thought she would be seeing her one-night-stand again, let alone be _working_ with her. It’s bad enough that she already knows what her new CFO looks like naked, what’s worse is that she knows how her CFO looks when Ava is knuckle-deep within her, curling her fingers _just right_ to tear her third orgasm of the ni— _No, bad Ava._

She quickly shakes those thoughts out of her head, her eyes wandering to look everywhere except in Beatrice’s direction.

Superion clasps her hands on the table, fingers intertwined. “Everyone, I’d like you all to welcome our new CEO, Ava Silva, to OCS International.” 

Almost immediately, everyone’s gaze turns to Ava, yet again. She gives a small, shy wave and the girl next to Beatrice stifles a snort. _Lilith,_ her mind supplies. _More like Maleficent, sheesh._ Vincent and the girl by the window almost immediately start clapping with everyone else slowly joining in. 

_Really feeling the love here, guys._

Ava gives a hesitant smile before risking a glance at Beatrice in her peripheral. She’s glad that there’s at least someone else she knows other than Vincent, even if their first meeting was rather unconventional. Maybe this job won’t be too bad after all. 

As Superion starts talking about their new groundbreaking project and other boring company news, Ava immediately tunes her out, choosing, instead, to discreetly doodle on the notepad in front of her. Before you ask, what she doodles is her own business. And if anyone sees her doodling a face similar to the one sitting across from her, kindly avert your eyes. 

The rest of the meeting passes by in a cough medicine-induced haze. If Ava was asked to recall any of the information shared, she would likely choke. In an attempt to avoid that scenario from coming to life, she quickly gathers her belongings, bee-lining for the double-doors that hold freedom, even if it’s temporary at best. 

As soon as she passes the threshold, Ava is bombarded _—Jesus, can’t she have a minute to herself—_ by a woman in a pencil-skirt, introducing herself as Teresa, her new PA. “Ma’am, if you could follow me, please,” her arm motions to the lift waiting for her at the end of the hall. “I can show you to your office.” 

_She has a fucking office._ And apparently her own assistant too. 

Ava pushes down her nervous urge to flee. Everything is too much. Scratch her previous request, she needs out of this _building._ Her flight response is coming down full-force, but as much as Ava wants to run at the window and jump out, she complies with her secretary’s request. 

While her PA chatters on about what the rest of her day looks like, Ava stares out at the windows wistfully, daydreaming about how fast she would have to run to break the glass and effectively fall to her death. 

Her ears catch another British accent, but this one is nowhere near as appealing as Beatrice’s. 

_“Her?_ You cannot be serious!” A shrill voice furiously whispers. Maleficent again. Figures. 

Ava pivots on her heel just in time to catch Lilith standing next to Beatrice in the corner by the plants. The furious muttering suddenly cuts off as she notices Ava. At Lilith’s abrupt silence, Beatrice turns, following her gaze to meet Ava’s once again. 

When Ava starts walking over, Lilith huffs, hands adjusting the lapels of her blazer before strutting off. 

“Well, she’s a fuckin’ character,” Ava casually remarks, finally excited at getting to talk to Beatrice again after the stolen glances they shared in the boardroom. She’s eager to bring back some of the familiarity they had shared last night. 

“Language.” Beatrice chastises almost reflexively. 

Ava snorts. “What is this, a convent?” Her voice drops lower, “We do not curse in the house of God,” she mocks. 

“This is a professional work environment. You are our CEO and we expect you to act as such.” Her words are carefully measured as she regards Ava cooly before muttering an all-too-polite “excuse me” and following Lilith. 

“Spoilsport.” Ava grumbles dejectedly, staring at Beatrice’s retreating figure, trying her hardest to quiet the loud beating in her chest. 

\- 

“That girl is a PR nightmare waiting to happen!”

Beatrice pinches the bridge of her nose. _In and out, in and out._ Control your breathing, control your emotions. That’s the only way she’s going to get through this. “Have some faith, Lilith.”

“Faith?! You want me to have faith in that second-rate _urchin_ who has done nothing but party her whole life? Does she even _know_ how to run a corporation?” Hands clasped behind her back, she paces to and fro in one of the employee break rooms they had randomly hijacked. 

Camila’s eyes follow Lilith back and forth like she’s watching a tennis match. “I’m sure she’ll do a great job!” Her bubbly voice rings out. Her attempt at bringing comfort is poorly received by Lilith who shoots daggers at her. Camila wilts, sending a helpless look at Beatrice who minutely shakes her head.

Camila shrugs. It seems that she is the only one who is invested in their new CEO’s success. 

Lilith spins. “That seat was supposed to be _mine!”_ She jabs a finger at her chest. “And now it’s in the hands of some orphan who hadn’t stepped a foot inside this building until today. She’s only here because of some piece of paper her foster parents wrote!”

 _“Hey,_ calm the fuck down,” Mary shoots daggers at Lilith just as an employee enters the break room, warning her to _‘stop fucking yelling’_ before someone overhears and reports them to HR for conspiring about a corporate takedown. 

They all fall silent as the random employee—Steve, his badge tag reads—busies himself, fiddling with the coffee machine. Sensing the attention, he turns around and offers the C-suite executives a quick smile which they uneasily return.

This small moment of reprieve from Lilith’s barking allows Beatrice to quickly gather her thoughts. Her brain feels as if it’s about to spontaneously combust. The woman she had met last night, the one who was _very_ attractive, kind of dorky—but in a cute way—and a _really_ good kisser was now her boss. 

Immediately her mind flashes back to their late-night activities, and the fact that she gave head to her future boss makes her want to drown her head in the public toilet. Pardon her language, but that’s fucking _mortifying._

It’s clear to Beatrice exactly what she needs to do. She needs to let her boss know where they stand to stave off any future awkward encounters otherwise Beatrice won’t be able to look at her in the face without thinking of how beautiful the woman looks under her, moaning for Beatrice to—

“—For fuck’s sake, Steve! Should I have reported you for corporate espionage?” Mary snaps, apparently having reached her limit for the day as well.

The employee snags the entire coffee pot and flees out of the room.

-

She can’t help but grimace at the sight of the barren room. It’s a good office, bringing in a lot of natural light and is even outfitted with large flatscreen tv. There’s also a small lounge area if she wants to relax. Her office is big, _really big,_ but it’s not hers. Ava eyes the executive desk in discomfort and opts to collapse on one of the couches instead, not quite ready to step into the role yet. She rests her head on the back of the sofa, facing the ceiling with her eyes closed.

Ava wasn’t expecting a warm reception when she was announced CEO. She knew that. And she couldn’t care less about what everyone thought of her, but her heart beats uncomfortably between her ribs every time she thinks about Beatrice, who barely even acknowledged Ava, keeping herself distant and her voice devoid of any emotion as if Ava was someone to be tolerated and not the fun girl she had the time of her life with the night before. 

She’s startled out of her thoughts by a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” Ava calls out, not bothering to move from her current position. It’s probably Vincent. He had mentioned he would stop by to check on her after his meeting finished. Her ears track soft footsteps padding across the ground before they come to a stop a few feet away from her. 

“When you have a moment, we need to review the financials for the new groundbreak.” 

Ava’s eyes flash open as she realizes that is _definitely not Vincent,_ heartbeat increasing as her brain identifies the owner of that familiar voice. “Beatrice!” She exclaims, immediately straightening up on the couch. 

Beatrice makes no sound of acknowledgement and continues to stare at Ava, waiting for a response. 

_Stupid._

“Oh—um, yeah, yeah. I just need to figure out my schedule first.” Her eyes dart around the room before settling on the very intimidating desk that sits in the middle. 

Beatrice follows her gaze, lips pursed. “This office wasn’t just waiting around for you to show up.”

Her shoulders sag. She can take the judgement from everyone else, but something about it coming from Beatrice makes her heart squeeze painfully. “I know.” Ava responds quietly, diverting her gaze.

“It belonged to someone.” 

“I know,” Ava repeats more strongly this time, eyes tearing away from the rug to face her.

Sensing Ava’s eyes on her, Beatrice turns. Whatever she sees on Ava’s face makes the look in her eyes a bit softer. “Everyone is just adjusting to the change. Give them time.”

“And you?” Ava questions, bravely. Her eyes are hopeful.

Beatrice grimaces, breaking eye contact. “We’re all adjusting,” she repeats.

Ava squirms. She needs to clear the air. Get it all out before the elephant in the room crushes the both of them. “Listen, about last night—”

“—I would prefer not to talk about it.”

Beatrice’s face visibly tightens, but Ava plunges on, completely ignoring it. “I understand, but I just think we should—”

“—Coworkers.” Beatrice blurts out.

“What?” 

Beatrice heaves a sigh. “We are coworkers. And although the situation is quite ironic, I hope that what happened last night will not affect our working relationship moving forward.”

 _“Oh.”_ Ava finally realizes what Beatrice is implying. She would never take advantage of Beatrice despite the power she now holds. And she’s slightly disappointed that Beatrice would ever think otherwise. “Of course not. Beatrice, I would never—” 

“Perfect. When you figure out your schedule, call my assistant and she’ll pencil you in to review the financials.” Her tone is back to being flat, devoid of any emotion. 

Ava tries to not let the disappointment show on her face. “Of course, got it.” She replies, flashing a quick thumbs up.

This time her heart sinks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope u all enjoyed this chapter! how saucy do u think was ava and bea's first night? will they do the dirty in the boardroom? let me know ur thoughts in the comments down below! hearing from u guys would make my day :')
> 
> alternatively, come yell at me on tumblr @analogoose if u think ive committed any crimes. i recently joined the wn discord so u can also find me on there!
> 
> see u all soon!


	2. Headlines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is this the legacy our co-founders were expecting to have?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man thank you all for your lovely comments and kudos last chapter!! i definitely didn't expect people to like this fic so much, but im glad ur all enjoying it and hopefully this next chapter doesn't scare u off. and now im getting self-conches about my writing so if u see me going back to edit my already posted chapters, kindly avert ur eyes out of respect

It’s been almost a week now and Ava likes to think that she’s settling into the routine well. The work is _boooooring,_ but she is slowly chipping away at it. She’s only had a few run-ins with her team since most of her time is spent squinting at the foreign numbers on her computer monitor and being harassed by her assistant. _Seriously, the girl always finds some excuse to step foot in Ava’s office at least once every hour._

In the few run-ins she’s had, the rest of the C-suite executives have been polite to her, except for Lilith who’s always one costume change away from becoming Voldemort. Out of all of them, Camila has been the most welcoming by far, even inviting her to their weekly night outs (unfortunately, she had to quickly rescind that invitation upon being subject to Lilith’s Glare of Doom). Mary had been indifferent and only spoke when spoken to. And of course Beatrice continued to remain emotionally distant, her voice nothing short of robotic every time she was in the presence of Ava. 

Fucking HAL 9000 had showed more emotion in two hours than Beatrice had in the past four days. 

Ava looks at the papers strewn all over her desk, then at the time on her clock. _What in the absolute fuck. Is it too late to quit?_

She swivels her chair and wistfully stares out of the windows—her _floor-to-ceiling windows,_ perks of being the CEO of a skyscraper. She was gifted with a majestic view of the skyline from her 44th-floor office. 

Ava rests her forehead against the window, enjoying the coolness of the glass. It’s a cloudless sky and rows of neighboring skyscrapers are stretched out before her, each burning from within with lights of their own. Manhattan is basked in a soft glow that smudges the hard lines of buildings and streaks the streets with hazy reds and yellows. It was _most definitely_ due to all the fucking pollution but damn, did it look like something right out of a painting. 

Her phone buzzes and Ava immediately abandons all work in favor of a much-needed distraction. 

**JC [10:46 p.m.]:** _Now that you’re a high and mighty CEO, u forgotten about us yet?_

She grins, screen brightly illuminating her face as her fingers type away. 

**Ava [10:48 p.m.]** _i would never forget my roots. almost offended u think so little of me_

The reply comes almost instantly. 

**JC [10:48 p.m.]:** _Well then does our CEO have time to grace us with her presence?_

As she is thinking about what to say, two more texts come in. 

**JC [10:49 p.m.]:** _Bash is having a party tonight. whole crew will be there_

 **JC [10:49 p.m.]:** _...and there’s gonna be lots of good 🌿 🚬_

The last one makes her suck in a breath. It’s been a while since she got properly high. She misses the feeling. The past few days have been nothing but constant stress, leaving her with barely enough time to eat as she tries to catch herself up on everything left behind by the previous CEO while also trying to plan ahead. Ava bites her lip, staring at the unread emails in her inbox then at her phone.

Ah, fuck it. 

She’s earned this. 

**Ava [10:53 p.m.]:** _i’ll be there in 20 😌 ⚡️_

 **JC [10:54 p.m.]:** _Atta girl! can’t wait to see u!_

She quickly turns off her computer, rearranges her desk so that it no longer looks like it went through a tornado, and grabs her coat. Once she’s gathered all of her belongings, Ava makes her way into the lift then down into the lobby. The building is empty save for a few employees staying after hours and the security guard that nods to her on her way out. 

Once outside, she’s able to catch the first taxi she sees. Ava quickly lists off an address in the Upper East Side and then they’re off. 

She leans her head against the glass as buildings go by in a blur. Down here, everything is much louder. Gone is the soft muted glow, and in its place there’s a chaotic mess of lights and sound as the streets echo with activity. 

It’s a while before they leave behind the densely populated cityscape for a residential area filled with affluent families. The cab starts to slow down as the driver pulls up in front of the familiar four-story townhouse. 

Mixed laughter filters out from the rooftop. Ava stands under the porch, hand poised over the door handle when the door opens for her. 

“Ava!” JC stands tall with flushed cheeks and bright eyes. “You’re here!!” She’s swept up into a hug, surrounded by the strong smell of peppermint and cedarwood.

“JC! It’s so good to see you!” The entire house is dark, save for the disco lights flashing in time with the music. 

“Come,” JC pulls her inside. “The others have been waiting for you.” He takes her wrist and starts leading her through the crowd. 

As soon as the others spot Ava, they gather around, exchanging hugs. Chanel claps Ava on the back, “We were wondering if you would show up.”

The corner of Ava’s lips quirk up. There’s a warmth that spreads throughout her chest as she looks at each of her friends. “I’ve really missed you guys.”

“We’ve missed you too, knucklehead,” Sebastian replies, mussing up Ava’s hair. 

JC comes up to her, holding out a cup. “Rum and coke, I haven’t forgotten.” 

Ava takes it, immediately taking a sip. Being here, surrounded by her longtime friends, in one of the most comforting places she’s ever been in her entire life, she finds it easier to breathe. She couldn’t remember how many times she ran away from the Griffiths’ and bunked at Bash’s when she was little. Sister Francis had never looked favorably at Ava, always thinking of her as a bum that was leeching off her foster parents’ wealth. She only tolerated Ava as long as they were alive, after they died and Ava was left in her care, Sister Francis had made her life a living hell.

It was a wonder Ava hadn’t run away from home any earlier than she did. Of course, that old hag was now dead—suffered a heart attack a few years after she left—so Ava was spared of ever having to come face-to-face with her again. 

The group exchanges a few more jokes, catching up with each other before Bash decides to play a good host and goes off to mingle with the rest of his guests. The rest start to disperse, each going in their own direction to enjoy the party until it’s just JC and Ava. They’re both watching the crowd of people dancing and enjoying their night. Enjoying their _life._

For a long time, Ava had forgotten what that felt like. 

_This was her normal._ Being surrounded by people, with everyone having a good time, and living life to their fullest, each day and night. This was where she thrived. 

For the first time in a few days, Ava immediately feels a weight lifted off of her chest. 

JC nudges her with his shoulder, eyes dancing over her face. “Wanna join them?” He nods to the crowd. 

Ava finishes the rest of her drink and follows him. She lets herself get lost in the sensation of limbs, of the beat pumping around her ears. She feels hands sliding along her hips and for a moment, she’s back in that club, dancing with Beatrice, bodies flush against each other, lips ghosting down her neck as they move with the music.

But that moment is soon broken as she turns around and finds that the girl she’s dancing with looks nothing like Beatrice. Ava masks her disappointment. It shouldn’t be affecting her this much. Beatrice was just a one-night-stand. An incredibly smart, sassy, and beautiful one-night-stand. _And also your coworker. Not to mention, you’re technically her boss now._

She puts her arms around the other girl’s neck and pulls her closer, pressing their foreheads together as she tries to forget the scent of jasmine and orange blossom that still clings to her senses, five nights later. 

The girl leans close to her ear, her breath hot on Ava’s neck. “Wanna smoke?” She raises her voice over the music. She hardly waits for Ava’s nod before she tangles their hands together and pulls Ava out of the crowd. Ava follows her upstairs and out onto the rooftop.

There’s a few people in the pool, others sitting on the ledge, and some just laying on the ground, observing the night sky. They make their way over to the lounge. Ava takes a seat on one of the empty couches and the girl slides in next to her. 

Some of her friends are already there, engaged in low conversation. Upon seeing her, Chanel smiles and hands Ava an already rolled joint. “It’s a new strain,” Chanel remarks. “Something Bash has been working on in his free time.”

Ava puts it between her lips as the girl lights it for her. She takes a long drag, letting the smoke fill up her lungs before exhaling. She hands it off to the girl, who accepts it with a smile, taking a puff of her own. They trade the blunt back and forth, making light conversation. Ava tries so hard to shape her into Beatrice, but as they talk more and more, she realizes that the girl reminds her of her suspiciously clingy assistant. 

And damn, that’s incredibly unsettling, but it doesn’t stop her from leaning in and moulding her lips against the girl’s. 

It’s not Beatrice, but god, it could be, and that thought drives her crazy.

-

Her phone buzzes once. Then, twice. Then again and again with no intention of stopping anytime soon. 

_It’s way too fucking early for this._

Ava throws her phone on the cushions in frustration, not even bothering to check it. She buries her face in her hands and lets out a loud groan. She feels like complete and utter shit. She vigorously rubs her temples, desperately trying to get rid of her hangover before she drops dead in the middle of her office. 

Already, Teresa had shown up in her office three times in the past hour, asking Ava if she needed coffee. The girl had been ready to order every drink off of the Starbucks menu. Just thinking about it amplified Ava’s headache. She had politely waved off her PA’s concern, but not before coming close to almost stabbing her letter opener through Teresa’s skull. 

Her patience was running out. 

Why fuck did she even need to be in the office at 8am? Wasn’t the whole point of being CEO that she could arrive later than everyone else?

_Aaarghhh._

After a few more minutes of resting her head on her desk, Ava decides to go to the C-suite break room and fix herself a cup of coffee. She doesn’t want Teresa to come back in here again and list off every drink on the Dunkin’ menu this time. 

She slowly drags her feet like a dead zombie, carefully avoiding her PA’s desk. Upon her arrival to the break room, she sees that it’s already occupied by Mary and Lilith, who stop chatting as soon as she walks in.

“Hey guys,” Ava mumbles before going over to the coffee machine. She doesn’t pay them any attention, instead focusing on the dark elixir that would restore her brain cells. She takes out the pot and groans.

It’s empty. 

Ava leans her head against the machine in defeat. _Who the fuck doesn’t refill the coffee pot? That’s basic workplace coffee etiquette. She’s only been here a week and she knows this._ She feels eyes on the back of her head as she silently curses Lilith because who else would do such a thing. She had seen the other girl nursing a full mug of coffee when she came in. It _had_ to be her. Always out to get Ava. 

“Late night bender?” Mary asks. 

Ava’s brain freezes. “Yeah, paperwork’s a bitch,” The slightly high pitch of her voice is masked by the gurgling of the coffee machine and she’s saved from being called out on a lie as Mary and Lilith resume their own conversation. It was _partially_ true. Work has been a bitch, lately. And she had been staying behind at the office to catch up on it until JC had invited her to a house party. 

“Have you talked to Shannon yet?” Lilith asks. 

Mary looks slightly flustered. “Why would I have talked to her?” The expression on her face is priceless and if Ava had enough energy, she would have burst out laughing. 

The silence that follows is long and pronounced as Lilith assesses her with a critical eye. Mary is saved from having to further explain herself when a loud chirp pierces the room. Ava reaches up to rub her ears in discomfort. 

Lilith looks down at the notification on her tablet “Never mind,” she murmurs, apparently having found something more interesting to hold her attention. 

Ava takes a sip of her concoction. _Sweet, sweet relief, here I come._ Already, she feels her energy levels boosting as the fog in her mind clears. 

She looks up at Ava, eyes gleaming with something unidentifiable. “So were you really up all night doing paperwork or were you out getting baked at some house party?” Lilith challenges.

Ava’s head immediately snaps up. “What do you mean?” Something like panic slithers up her spine.

Lilith snorts, sliding her iPad across the table, motioning for Ava to have a look for herself.

She abandons her coffee and picks up the iPad, eyes squinting against the harsh light of the screen. Her stomach drops. It’s a news article, published seven minutes ago.

**OCS CEO SMOKES WEED AT HOUSE PARTY**

**_Is this the legacy our co-founders were expecting to have?_ **

_Oh fuck._

Ava quickly scrolls through the article, her stomach dropping further and further. She can’t even bring herself to watch the 7-second video. Now would be a good time for the floor to open up and swallow her. 

So many thoughts are flying through her head, _like who the fuck recorded her? And yikes, that headline hurts._

“Ouch, that’s a little harsh,” Ava comments, going for the indifferent approach, shrugging the news article off as if it's a piece of lint and not something that’s just landed her in boiling hot water. 

Lilith looks absolutely furious. “That’s all you have to say?! You’re going to drag this company in the goddamn gutter if you keep this up!”

“Okay, calm down, Voldemort, it’s really not that deep.” Ava sets the tablet back onto the table. She makes a _pft_ sound. “They’re going to forget about this in a week.”

Lilith laughs like she knows something Ava doesn’t. Ava looks back and forth between Mary—who looks like she wants to be anywhere but here—and the still-cackling Lilith.

“What?”

Mary pinches the bridge of her nose. “This is just one article, Ava. By nine a.m., there’s going to be dozens out there. This is going to look really bad to our partners and investors.” 

“Better lock up your record, teenage runaway. Before the press sniffs out all the other crazy shit you did.” Lilith taunts.

_Jesus, did everyone who worked in this building know about that?_

Lilith crosses her arms, smirk in place. “Sooner or later, they’re going to declare you unfit to lead. And then, this seat will be mine.” Mary shoots her a dark look. 

_Fuck you, Lilith. Just for that, I’m going to make sure you never get close to my seat. Even if I get kicked off._

The urge to flip her off is strong, but Ava reins it in because _professionalism. Bleh. So exhausting._ When she gets back to her office, Teresa is already waiting there for her, nervously bouncing on her feet as she frantically waves her phone. Her assistant looks stricken. “Have you seen the news? They have your face—”

“—Yes, I already know. Thank you, Teresa.” Ava digs the heels of her palms into her forehead. 

But Teresa doesn’t stop. If anything, she takes it as further incentive to continue. “—I came in here as soon as I got the notifications, but you were already gone and I didn’t know—”

“It’s okay. I appreciate your dedication...to your position.” Ava grimaces. 

Teresa gives a nervous laugh. “I’m just doing my job.” Shyly, she tucks a fallen strand of her hair behind one ear and Ava almost throws up in her mouth. “For the record, I don’t believe what they’re saying about you. That video is obviously fake.”

Ava blinks. “Yes, you should never believe that kind of stuff.” She gives a solemn nod before gagging in her coffee cup as she takes a sip. _God, this is painful._

Teresa turns to leave then thinks better of it. She clears her throat a few times. “Ah, one more thing. Super—I mean, the Chairman wants to see you.”

_Double fuck._

After dropping that bombshell, her assistant quickly flees the room, not even waiting to hear Ava’s response to that. She thinks she might _actually_ throw up now. The thought of meeting Boss Bitch after doing a big bad is incredibly unappealing right now. 

Ava drops down on the floor in front of the couch. Should she start planning her funeral now? A shrill ringing from her phone startles her as she’s deciding between deviled eggs and mini quiches to serve at her wake. _Definitely go with the eggs._ She reaches her hand between the cushions, fishing for her phone. Ava doesn’t even look at the ID before answering. At this point, she’s lost all fucks to give.

_“What were you thinking?”_

“Uncle V!!” Ava perks up. Vincent would make things better, he always had her back. 

_“If you were going to ‘blaze it up’ couldn’t you have done it somewhere more private?”_

Ava rolls her eyes. “Nobody says that, Uncle V.” She moves up to the couch, sprawling out and letting her legs hang off the armrest. “Besides, I don’t get what the big deal is. Isn’t weed legal here?”

 _“The big deal?!”_ Ava winces, pulling the phone away from her ear as Vincent continues yelling. _“The big deal, Ava, is that it’s not just you anymore.”_ She hears something akin to a sigh. _“You’re representing the company now. And everything you do reflects back on us. Good and bad.”_

Her mood goes sour. Typical Ava. Never thinking about anyone but herself. God, she’s so fucking selfish. Ava goes silent. Nothing but the sound of her breathing carries the call as she stares out over the distance. 

_“Ava?”_ Vincent calls out hesitantly. 

“What do I do?” Her voice is so small. She feels like she’s eight again, hiding in that tree asking Vincent what she does now that her second parents are dead too. It’s not fucking fair of her. She can’t keep putting shit on Vincent, he has his own things to do. And man, doesn’t that make her feel like the biggest asshole in the world.

_“Nothing. Don’t worry about it. I’m already having PR and Legal do some damage control. We’ll make sure nothing else gets out. In the meantime, try not to go out too much. Okay?”_

“Okay,” she acquiesces, cutting the call. For once in her goddamn life, she’ll be responsible. She’s going to go see Superion, and if it kills her, well, it’s a good thing she already has her funeral outfit picked out. 

\- 

“You’re certainly making waves.” Superion stands facing the windows in her office. “Our stocks have already dropped eight percent.” 

Ava remains silent, eyes glued to the ground. _The longer she says quiet, the faster she’ll be able to leave._

“You’re the image of this company now.” Superion shifts, arms clasped behind her back. She stands ready. Poised. “Though, I suppose it makes sense. Knowing what I know about you.”

Ava pales. “What do you mean?”

“Ran away when you were 18—” Her stomach turns to lead. “—Yes, the Board was made aware of your stunt. We were ready to report you as a missing person until you called Vincent.” Superion studies Ava before nodding to herself. “But I get it. Watching your mother die in front you, then a year later, standing at your foster parents’ funerals, too. It must have been a nightmare for you.” Ava’s frozen now, her mouth is set in a hard line as her lower lip trembles. “No wonder you were acting out.”

“—That’s not true! I wasn’t—I wasn’t acting out.” Her voice sounds hoarse. She wants to say more, tell Superion why she left when she did. But the words escape her, and all she can do is snap her mouth shut as the memories start to resurface. 

When she finally turns around to face Ava, it’s no longer Superion that’s there, rather Sister Francis stands towering over her. Ava’s eyes are wide, a well of emotion pooling deep. She’s back at the Griffiths’, listening to Francis berate her over and over again. 

Superion doesn’t stop the verbal assault. “You ran away because that’s what you always do, Ava. You’re a coward. Even now, you continue to run.” Her eyes are piercing. “When there’s blood in the water, the sharks will circle. Make up your mind Ava. When the time comes, will you stay or will you run?”

“You don’t know me,” Ava grits out, teeth clenched in anger. Even now, her voice sounds distant, faraway, even to her own ears. Her eyes are filled with unshed tears. _How dare she._

She doesn’t wait for Superion to dismiss her, instead, barrels out of her office and almost into an unaware Beatrice, who almost drops her file in surprise. Ava quickly shoves past, ignoring her. Tears threaten to spill from her eyes, and she’ll be damned if she shows weakness in front of any of the people here. 

She faintly hears the call of her name but ignores it.

-

Of course Beatrice had seen the video. Who hadn’t? 

Ava smoking weed, sitting _very close_ to some girl at a house party. She had replayed the video over and over again, for god knows how long, watching Ava, then the girl. She’s not sure what bothers her more. The fact that Ava was already out with someone else, or that she wanted to be the girl Ava was with. 

_She’s your boss now._ Technically. _Doesn’t matter if it’s on a technicality, she’s still your boss._

She shouldn’t be having _thoughts_ about her boss. Especially when Ava was already out at another party, chasing after another girl. The simple idea of it makes her stomach curl. There’s a grim satisfaction that’s brought to the surface when Beatrice sees the headlines. _Serves her right,_ she thinks. But that was quickly swallowed up by a stab of regret that started churning like butter when she saw Ava running out of Superion’s office. _She doesn’t deserve that._

“How come you get a cooler view than me?” She looks up to find Ava leaned against her doorway, trademark grin in place. Ava might have had the New York skyline, but Beatrice has the Hudson River. She seems to be in better spirits than when Beatrice saw her earlier.

“Your office is bigger,” Beatrice counters. She puts her work aside and diverts her attention to Ava once again. “I could have met you there.” She adds, eyes tracking Ava as she bee-lines for the windows, pressing her face up against the glass as she looks out into the city. 

Ava waves her off. “Nah, kinda wanted to get away from Teresa. She’s a good assistant, but something about her just—” Ava shivers. “Gives me the _heebie jeebies.”_

Beatrice tries to keep a look of disgust from crossing her face. She’s met plenty of PAs like Teresa in her career. Always looking to climb to the top. In whatever way that involved. 

Ava seems a lot perkier now, but Beatrice senses a certain heaviness that still clings to her. It’s not something she wants to involve herself in—she’s trying to keep her distance, like a _responsible coworker_ —so she turns back to her work, well aware of Ava’s proximity to her, even if she was still looking out the window. 

“Aren’t you going to yell at me, too?” Well, guess she’s involving herself in it now.

Beatrice puts down her pen, slowly swiveling her chair to face Ava. “What do you want me to say? That you’re thoughtless and self-centered? That you only think about yourself?” She doesn’t know why, but something like guilt claws at the back of her throat when she sees Ava’s expression. Beatrice softens. “I’m sure you’ve already heard enough of those things today.”

“But they’re true,” Ava presses. 

Beatrice knows what she’s doing. She recalls Ava dashing out of Superion’s office. “Don’t let her get to you. She’s messing with your head.” Ava’s face remains unchanged and Beatrice exhales. 

She tries a different tactic. “The others... They call her Cruella de Jesus.” The beginnings of a spark flickers in Ava’s eyes and it pleases Beatrice to know that she put that there. Despite it being just the two of them in the room, her voice drops conspiratorially, “I may have started it.” 

Ava huffs, turning back to the window, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. Beatrice’s traitorous heart flutters. _Stop that._

They spend a few more moments of companionable silence, Beatrice’s pen occasionally scratching paper as Ava calmly gazes out the window. 

“Are you religious?”

Beatrice falters. Religion was something that had always been heavy for her. Something that had caused a lot of her burdens instead of taking them away. “It’s...complicated. My parents are devout Catholics, they always took me to mass every Sunday. They even sent me to a Catholic boarding school.” Beatrice pauses. “I almost became a nun.” It’s an afterthought, one that she hadn’t meant to say out loud, but by the slow-growing interest on Ava’s face, she had definitely heard it.

“What stopped you?” Ava cocks her head, the surprise on her face evident at hearing someone like Beatrice almost give up her posh lifestyle to spend the rest of her life in a convent. 

“I realized that I would have taken the vows for the wrong reasons.” The answer just flies out of her mouth. Unbidden. As if Ava, herself, had reached past the curtain and pulled it out. And suddenly, it feels too naked. Too close to the actual truth. _It was too much._ A growing unease pools at the bottom of her stomach, but Beatrice makes sure to look expressionless. As if sharing that hadn’t exposed a part of her. 

Ava studies her. “You know, I was practically raised by a nun.” 

Beatrice’s eyes grow imperceptibly wide. That was definitely something she hadn’t heard before. 

“After the Griffiths’ died, their housekeeper decided to stay and take care of me _‘out of the goodness of her heart’,_ ” Ava snorts. “Pretty sure she was only doing it because she didn’t want to get kicked out of the house.”

There’s a lot that goes unsaid in that simple statement, but Beatrice is nothing if not smart. A small flash of anger bubbles in her, furious at the woman who took advantage of an eight-year old child. _Of Ava._

“Sister Beatrice, huh?” Ava nudges her, eyebrows wiggling. “You mean to tell me I could have met you rocking a habit?” 

Beatrice’s mouth twitches into a small smile. “I’m not sure if we would have crossed paths.” 

“Oh trust me, we definitely would have.” When Ava makes eye contact again, Beatrice sees her pupils dilate and for a moment, her own want is reflected back at her. 

Her eyes flick down to Ava’s lips. _What are you doing?_ She quickly looks away, clearing her throat. “We need to review the financials.”

Ava straightens up, “Right, the groundbreak.” She takes the seat across from Beatrice, opening her file as Beatrice pulls up her own copies on her monitor. 

Ava scrunches her eyebrows together, studying the amalgamation of numbers in front of her. “Shouldn’t these have already been reviewed before?”

Beatrice looks at her, mildly surprised. They all knew who Ava was so the bar had been set very low. “Yes, they were. But Vincent wants us to look at them again. It’s more for your sake, so you can see where the money’s going now that you’re going to be spearheading this project.”

She’s already looked at this a dozen times, but Beatrice goes ahead and reviews it for Ava. “In here, you’ll find the money orders, property documents, the company and travelers checks, and receipts of the authorized refunds.” She clicks on a different window. “Each branch also has its own income statements stored in a separate section.” 

Ava leans over, elbows on Beatrice’s desk, and points to a spot on her screen. “And this is the account that stores them?”

Her face is right next to Beatrice’s, eyes flickering over the documents. It would be so easy to lean in, bridge the distance and— _No._ Beatrice swallows, trying to maintain her focus on the monitor but finding it _very hard_ to do so with Ava’s newfound proximity. _Is this her punishment for straying from the path of God?_ “Each branch has its own separate account.” Her throat bobs imperceptibly. She moves back in her chair, attempting to banish the impure thoughts from her mind. 

Ava slowly nods. “And where would I find the bank statements?”

Beatrice navigates to another window. “You should have access to all of these as well. If you need further help locating anything, Teresa should be able to help you.” Just saying that awful PA’s name makes Beatrice want to find the nearest bin and reacquaint herself with her breakfast. 

Instead of sitting back down in her chair, Ava _leans closer_ and Beatrice just wants to disappear in her seat. She’s oblivious to Beatrice’s inner turmoil as her eyes squint at the screen. “Huh.” 

At Beatrice’s shaky glance—she cannot turn her head without it bumping into Ava’s, forgive her if she’s trying to save whatever’s left of her dignity—Ava elaborates, “I had to take a call with the bank, you know, monthly check-in, and _it was a couple days late, I’m sorry,_ but in that call, they confirmed all of the recent deposits for the LA branch and _that one,”_ she points at the screen, “was never mentioned.” 

Beatrice’s brow furrows. _That can’t be right._ “Are you sure? Maybe they did and you just forgot?” They were all aware of Ava’s reputation. 

Instead of getting offended, Ava just shakes her head. “See, I thought so too, but when I checked the balance, it matched what they told me.” 

She quickly pulls up the most recent bank statement. “Ava,” Beatrice begins, eyes scanning the page. “What time did you call the bank?”

Ava’s forehead creases as she thinks back. “Around two, why?”

Beatrice doesn’t answer as she checks the timestamp on the statement. Dread settles at the bottom of her stomach. The statement was submitted a day before Ava had called the bank. And this one reflected the new deposit, inflating the balance. Her mind can’t help but immediately jump to the worst-case scenario. 

Ava’s eyes grow wide as she reaches the same conclusion as Beatrice. _“Oh my god, is someone stealing from us?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oKAY for the purpose of this fic, recreational weed is now legal in new york. it is my Decree.
> 
> hope u all enjoyed this chapter, this one was def a wild ride. im not quite pleased with how it turned out, but hopefully u guys think differently. next update might take a minute since next week is exam week. but i'll try to get ch.3 up for u guys as soon as i can once exams are finished!
> 
> as always, drop a line in the comments down below, tell me about ur day or something! i love hearing from u guys. alternatively, if u think i've committed any crimes, find me on tumblr @analogoose or reach out to me on the wn discord.
> 
> see u soon!


	3. Re: Urgent (!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God help me, is it too late to join that Malaysian convent? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it is my country's ~~election~~ hell week, i offer this chapter to u all as a reprieve

Immediately after dismissing Ava out of her office, Beatrice had phoned the bank, inquiring about the missing deposit. Unfortunately, it had proved to be a dead end with the bank staff being less than helpful and slightly defensive about the idea of missing money. Beatrice had then spent the rest of the day—and night—cross-referencing every deposit and bank statement submitted by the LA branch in the last three years.

_“We can’t jump to any conclusions.”_

_“Are you serious?!” Ava looks at her as if she’s just grown two heads. “—What else could this mean?”_

_Beatrice is firm in her denial. “We could be overlooking something. You should get back to your work.” She refuses to meet Ava’s eye. “This falls under my purview, so I’ll take care of it.”_

_Ava frowns. “It’s not your fault. We couldn’t have known.”_

It was her fault. She was the fucking CFO for crying out loud. How does a company’s own _chief financial officer_ overlook a serious case of fraud and embezzlement. Beatrice’s fingers dig into her temples. She takes a swig of her coffee to drown out the furious pounding in her skull. 

This was past the point of denial. She had tried so hard to reason this, but ultimately, her gut instinct had been correct. Someone _was_ stealing from them. Someone, with incredible reach and power, was forging bank statements and balance sheets to embezzle large amounts of money from within the company, spanning across multiple branches. _Millions of dollars of funds._ Beatrice could count on her hand the number of people who had the means to pull off something like this. 

There was no way anyone in her team would ever do something like this. Ava was too new to be involved in this, not to mention, Beatrice highly doubted the girl had the attention span to pull off something this long-term. As for the rest of the C-suite team, she would bet her life on them. They were like her sisters. 

So that only left the Board. 

“Damn it.” She quietly mutters, staring at her marked up documents before quickly making a decision. Her fingers fly over her keyboard, pulling up her inbox.

**To:** Ava S., Chief Executive Officer [All departments, New York branch], Camila D., Chief Technology Officer [R&D, New York branch], Lilith V., Chief Operating Officer [Administration, New York branch], Mary H., Chief Information Officer [IT, New York branch]   
**From:** Beatrice K., Chief Financial Officer [Accounting & Finance, New York branch],   
**Subject:** Urgent (!)

I apologize at having to drag you all so unexpectedly from your work, but I have an important matter to discuss. If you could all meet me across the street, at Sushi Garden, in 10 minutes, that would be greatly appreciated. I stress, this matter is urgent and requires our immediate attention. 

In reparation, I am willing to buy you all lunch for your troubles.

See you all soon,  
Beatrice

Within a minute, a reply comes in. She’s not expecting it, but given who exactly is included on the email list, she isn’t surprised. 

**To:** Beatrice K., Chief Financial Officer [Accounting & Finance, New York branch], Camila D., Chief Technology Officer [R&D, New York branch], Lilith V., Chief Operating Officer [Administration, New York branch], Mary H., Chief Information Officer [IT, New York branch]   
**From:** Ava S., Chief Executive Officer [All departments, New York branch]  
 **Subject:** Re: Urgent (!) 

Attachment: _IMG_4673._

great minds think alike bea 😉 👍🏼

—a xx.  
Sent from my iPhone

Beatrice blinks. It’s a selfie of Ava with her face leaning next to a table that has a smorgashboard of half-eaten sushi laid out in front of her. 

_Bea._ Her heart thumps loudly at the nickname as she rereads the caption. Her face feels warm. _Oh god, now is not the time._ She reins it in and quickly shuffles together all of her documents. 

She mutters a hurried _be right back_ to her assistant before catching the lift. Thankfully, the elevator is empty so it’s not long before she’s stepping out into the lobby. Beatrice rushes through security and out onto the sidewalk. She takes a minute to check for a lull in traffic as she wraps her jacket around tighter before jaywalking across the street. 

The bell chimes as Beatrice steps into Sushi Garden. It's just after lunchtime, so the restaurant is buzzing with customers, and understandably so. The restaurant is a hotspot for many OCS employees who prefer convenience and quick service. On the far end, she catches Ava waving at her from a corner booth, table now clear from the mess of food that occupied it earlier. 

“I saved you some.” Ava gestures to the two untouched plates that sit in front of them.They’re crab rolls. _Her favorite._ Beatrice’s stomach immediately grumbles in response. Her face flushes in embarrassment and she immediately tries to cover it up with a cough, but Ava just laughs and pushes the plates closer to her.

Beatrice cracks a smile. “Thank you.” She’s nothing if not polite.

She sets her file on the table with a loud _thump_ and grabs a pair of chopsticks before politely digging in. When the first bite of sushi hits her tongue, Beatrice has to restrain herself from moaning out loud. It’s been sixteen hours since she last ate. Her eyes briefly close as she savors the roll. 

Ava hums, pleased with herself for her smart selection. She allows Beatrice a few moments to enjoy her food before speaking up. _“So,”_ she clutches her chopsticks in excitement, “is this about _you know what?”_

Beatrice opens her mouth to reply but thinks better of it when she sees a server approaching with more plates of sushi, crowding the once empty table. 

Ava sheepishly grins, “I went ahead and ordered more before you came.”

“Oh you didn’t have to, I said I would buy—”

Ava waves her off. “Don’t worry about it. I got hungry.”

Beatrice nods, popping another roll into her mouth, carefully considering her words. “After you left, I conducted some more research.” She flexes her chopsticks. “I think it’s time we let everyone else know.” 

Ava squeals. “This is so exciting! My first ever corporate conspiracy,” she exclaims with wonder before shoving a piece of sushi into her mouth, cheeks bulging as she chews. 

A corporate conspiracy is far from exciting, especially when it’s happening in your _own_ company, but Beatrice lets the comment go, distracted by the girl in front of her who’s shoveling roll after roll into her mouth like some rabid raccoon as if she hadn’t smashed at least five rolls before her arrival. The image is almost _cute,_ endearing in a way that makes Beatrice’s heart expand. 

She notices a small spot of spicy mayo on the corner of Ava’s mouth and before Beatrice can stop herself, she’s already leaning over the table, hand moving to wipe it off.

Ava’s eyes shift to a spot beside her and Beatrice immediately freezes. She doesn’t have to turn her head to know that the rest of the C-suite executives are standing right there. _God help me, is it too late to join that Malaysian convent?_

“You have a bit of—um,” Beatrice _doesn’t_ flounder—she doesn’t—but right now, the words escape her. In a less graceful motion than she’d like to admit, she redirects her hand to the pile of napkins that sit just to the right of Ava and throws one at her as she helplessly gestures to her own face, hoping Ava will do the math so that Beatrice is saved from digging herself further into her own grave. 

Lilith stands there, with both hands in her pockets, staring at her incredulously. Beatrice doesn’t need to turn to know that Mary and Camila are also looking at her with varying degrees of shock on their faces because Beatrice _never_ um’s. She _never_ flounders. 

Ava picks up the napkin with equally wide eyes and a weak smile, wiping her face. 

For a minute, no one speaks. Beatrice shifts in her seat, refusing to make eye contact with the rest of her team in an attempt to salvage whatever’s left of her dignity.

 _“Soo,_ someone is stealing money from us...” Ava blurts out in a pathetic attempt to break the ice.

 _“Ava—”_ Beatrice admonishes. This was not how she wanted to break the news. 

“Alright,” Mary orders and pushes Lilith and Camila into Beatrice’s side before sliding in next to Ava. She snatches her own pair of chopsticks and starts working through the plate of California rolls, patiently waiting for someone to take the lead. 

Lilith turns to Beatrice, hands clenching the edge of the table. “Good god, Beatrice, tell me she’s not right.”

Now that the cat’s out of the bag, there’s no point in sugarcoating. Beatrice bows her head and tries to break the news to them as gently as possible. “Ava is correct. Someone is embezzling funds from the company—”

“—Holy fuck—”

Beatrice ignores the interruption and firmly presses ahead, the barest hint of a tremble in her voice. “—As of right now, we’ve only been able to trace it back to the Los Angeles branch. But I imagine there are more.” 

“Start from the beginning,” Mary orders. 

Beatrice recounts her steps, starting with her and Ava’s accidental discovery, then her own call with the bank and her night spent going over the LA branch’s bank statements from the last three years. She pulls out the documents from the file and starts passing them around to everything. 

By the end of her explanation, everyone at the table is sitting in dismay. 

“Whoever was doing this always submitted the false deposits and bank statements after the monthly check-ins, effectively burying them under our notice. This is someone who knows about the CEO’s monthly check-in calls with the bank and has connections to the bank—specifically our bank representatives.” She releases a shaky breath. 

“So the only reason we’re even hearing of this, is because,” Lilith huffs, eying Ava who hasn’t stopped eating since this meeting started, “ _she_ neglected to fulfill her responsibilities on time.”

Ava pauses her shoveling, looking indignant at being called out. “Hey! If I hadn’t called the office late, then we would have never found out about this.” 

“I’m surprised you even knew how to read a balance sheet,” Lilith grumbles. 

“I have a degree in Business Administration from Sorbonne, I can do more than just read a glorified spreadsheet.” Ava fires back. “I wasn’t just club-hopping around Europe for the last three years. I was busy getting my degree _and_ doing body shots.” She sits back in her seat, a satisfied smile on her face.

Beatrice grimaces. It’s hard to stay impressed for long when she’s assaulted by the mental image of Ava doing a shot off of some girl’s— _No._

Mary awkwardly pats Ava’s back in acknowledgement of her abilities. “Well, now that we’ve all been fucking enlightened about Ava’s education history, can we move on to the more pressing matters?” She urges, slightly annoyed at getting off-topic. 

“It’s got to be one of the board members right?” Camila nervously picks at the sleeves of her sweater. “I mean, they’re the only ones besides us who have the power to disrupt chain of command like this.”

Beatrice turns pensive, picking at the corner of a napkin as runs through her mental rolodex of each board member and their respective connections to their bank. “So far, Ava’s the only one who has been able to get a straight answer from the bank. Ava, who did you call?”

Ava pops an edamame bean into her mouth, thoughtfully chewing before shrugging her shoulders in a _beats me_ gesture. “Some guy named Todd. Found his number on a post-it in between some files.”

“Who the fuck is Todd?” Mary asks, voicing everyone else’s thoughts.

“Obviously someone who works at the bank, Mary.” 

Mary rolls her eyes and elbows Ava in the rib, ignoring the indignant squeak of surprise. “No shit, Sherlock. I mean that the company only communicates with our bank representative. So I repeat, who the fuck is Todd?” 

Beatrice frowns to herself. “Ava, do you still have the paper?”

“Um yeah…” She turns to her messenger bag and starts pulling at all of the zippers, shuffling around items as her hand rummages through the different pockets. “Found it!” Ava grins triumphantly and hands a crumpled yellow paper to Beatrice who flattens it out on the table as everyone leans in for a closer look. 

She studies the loopy script closely. _Ava found the number hidden between some files. Maybe Shannon was looking into this before?_

“This looks like Shannon’s handwriting.” Lilith points out, eyes narrowed.

“The interim CEO? Hey, wasn’t she supposed to show me the ropes?” Ava asks. “Totally got thrown to the sharks on my first week,” she mutters dejectedly. 

“She did leave awfully quick.” Camila acknowledges, shifting her gaze to Mary.

“Shannon may have been looking into this.” Beatrice taps at the note before also directing her attention to Mary.

Lilith smirks at Mary knowingly who closes her eyes and exhales. “I haven’t been able to reach her since she left to work for ARLA,” she admits, shoulders sagging at the weight of her admission. 

Camila reaches over the table and sets her hand on top of Mary’s. “She was closer to you than she was to any of us. If anyone can get her to open up, it’s you.” She squeezes Mary’s hand in comfort. 

“How much has been stolen, Bea?” Ava gently prods, asking the one question that Beatrice had been dreading to give an answer to.

Everyone silently gazes back at her in anticipation. There’s no good way to break this news. “I’ve only been able to go through LA’s statements from the last three years, but I estimate it’s around two million. If we compound that to the rest of the branches, we’re looking at around _at least_ a loss of eight million.”

“Shit.”

“We need to figure out who did this.” Lilith growls, jaw clenched. 

“Agreed. Drag the fucking asshole out.” Mary sucks in a breath, hands curling into fists. 

“So how are we going to do this?” Camila asks. 

Everyone turns to Beatrice for an answer. This is her domain. No one knows the inner workings of OCS better than she does. The beginnings of a plan had begun to take shape ever since she stepped into the restaurant. She’s always been loyal to the company and its cause. _But this is bigger than that._

She knows what she’s about to ask of her team. _This is bigger than the company,_ she reminds herself again. Certain actions need to be taken, no matter how much she may loathe them. “Camila, how long would it take you to access the bank records of every board member?”

Camila hesitates. “A few hours. Maybe a half a day, if there are multiple accounts, but—that’s illegal, Bea.” She glances up at Beatrice with wide eyes and it leaves something like a bitter taste in her mouth. Camila is the youngest of them, aside from Ava, and Beatrice has always felt a protective instinct when it comes to her. She hates putting this kind of responsibility on Camila, but she’s the only one capable of getting the necessary information. 

Mary snorts. “So is embezzling eight million dollars.” 

“We could get fired if any of the board members ever find out that we did this to them.” Lilith shoots back. “Then we can all say bye to our cushy corporate jobs and say hello to the inside of a prison cell.” 

“They don’t have to find out it was us.” All heads swerve to Ava, who finally chooses that moment to speak. Her plates are wiped clean, she seems to have finished the rest of her sushi while they were discussing the plan. 

Ava shrugs, crossing her arms. “We could just leak it to the _New York Times_ or something. Journalists protect their sources right?”

“Kid’s got a point,” Mary nods. “Not to mention, once the news drops, the Board will probably have their hands full with that asshole.” 

“Our stocks are going to drop even _further._ ” Lilith sneers at Ava who just groans in response. 

Beatrice presses her lips together as she considers a potential solution. “We can have Ava do some damage control at the press conference.” Her words are measured and the plan starts to solidify more and more into her mind. “Vincent, Ava, and I are flying to Seattle tomorrow for the groundbreaking ceremony. If everything goes to plan, the culprits’s records will be leaked before the press conference, and we can mitigate the fallout.” 

Lilith shakes her head. “Vincent informed me this morning that he won’t be able to make it. He’s sending me as his replacement,” she eyes Ava, wrinkling her nose distastefully at the thought of being confined in a closed space for six hours with her. 

“You don’t think…” Camila trails off, hesitantly glancing at Ava out of her peripheral. 

“It’s not Vincent!” Ava immediately jumps to defend him, jutting out her chin in defiance. 

“How do you know?” Lilith challenges. 

Ava vehemently shakes her head. “It’s not him, I know it isn’t. He would never do something like this.”

“Nobody is pointing any fingers,” Beatrice tries her best to diffuse the situation before it gets out of hand. They can’t have the team at odds with each other, they need to have a united front for what happens next. “But, Lilith is right to be wary. At this point, it could be anyone on the Board. It doesn’t hurt to be safe.” 

Ava frowns, but doesn’t protest further. 

Mary drums her fingers on the table in anticipation. “So we wait for Cam to get the records, find that bastard, and expose him. Sounds like a solid plan.” 

“Go team.” Lilith cheers sarcastically.

-

She’s sitting at a table for two in an upscale Italian restaurant, sipping her wine while she waits. As soon as their meeting in Sushi Garden had concluded, Ava had wasted no time in texting Vincent to ask him if he would like to meet her for dinner tonight. _To celebrate me getting through my first week,_ she had said. It was partially true. And if she could glean information about the other Board members in the process, well, that was just another bonus. 

Beatrice had said that _it could be anyone on the Board._ Which meant Vincent could just as well be the one who was stealing the money. Ava doesn’t even want to entertain that thought for a second, but she’s going to try her hardest to find out whatever she can tonight. 

“How did you know Italian’s my favorite?” Vincent asks, approaching the table with a big smile.

“That’s ‘cause it’s mine too.” Ava’s smile is strained and she makes no move to greet him like she normally does, instead helping herself to another one of the complimentary breadsticks. Beatrice’s words echo in her mind as she takes a bite. 

_It could be anyone._

If Vincent notices her odd behavior, he doesn’t comment and settles himself in the seat across from Ava. “To the successful completion of your first week at OCS. I can’t wait to see what you do.” He raises his wine glass in cheers and Ava joins him. 

She takes a larger than normal sip of her wine and noisily sets her glass down before fixing Vincent with a serious look. “I want to know more about the company, Uncle V.” 

Vincent cocks his head, “What's with the sudden interest?”

“I’m CEO now. I figure, better late than never right?” Ava takes another large sip as she studies Vincent. 

Vincent hums, eyes briefly closing in content as a small smile graces his face. “It’s good to see you stepping into the role. Sophia and Victor would have been proud.” Ava grimaces at the mention of her foster parents. 

Vincent grabs a breadstick of his own when the server arrives with their meals. He eyes the dishes in curiosity. “Eggplant parm. You know my favorite, too.” 

“It’s the only thing you order at every Italian restaurant,” Ava points out. She bites the inside of her cheek, considering her next words. “I’d have to be stupid to not notice a pattern.” It’s an offhand comment, one injected with a dose of suspicion. She’s not sure what she’s looking for, maybe something that points him towards being the embezzler. 

Vincent’s eyes crinkle, face glowing with something that looks like pride and _shit_ does Ava feel like a jackass for ever having suspected him. He’s never been nothing but supportive of her. It _can’t_ be Vincent. 

“You were always very clever.” He adjusts the napkin on his lap. “Let’s see… Victor’s parents first started OCS International 35 years ago. It was different back then, but when Sophia and Victor took over, they wanted to take the company into a different direction, they wanted to help make the world better. Of course not everyone was happy with what they were doing but they had support, predominantly the Valentes’ helped them push forward.”

Ava’s eyes widen. “Wait, Valente as in _Lilith_ Valente?”

Vincent lets out a small laugh. “Yes, the one and only. You may have noticed she operates with a chip on her shoulder.” 

Ava snorts as she takes another bite of her ravioli. “That’s an understatement.” 

Vincent finishes swallowing another bite and takes a sip of his wine. “Don’t let her get to you. She’s all bark and no bite.”

This was her opening. “And the other Board members?” Ava tries to keep her tone light, making sure her question comes across as nothing more than casual curiosity and not an attempt to suss out an embezzler. 

Vincent sets down his cutlery and scratches his beard in thought. “You’ve already met Martiana and she’s probably the worst of them all. If you can handle her, you can handle the rest of them.” His forehead creases in thought. “Lionel is unpredictable. I would be cautious of him and Duretti. Those two caused quite a stir when you made headlines. Duretti has been looking for any ammo he can use to push for your replacement.” 

“He doesn’t scare me,” she replies and stabs at another one of her ravioli before asking another question, “So, why aren’t you coming to Seattle with us?” 

Vincent regards Ava with a curious look. “I wasn’t aware you needed me for that.”

She pouts. “But, I wanted you to see me give my first public speech.” 

He laughs good-naturedly. “Unfortunately, Duretti and I have to fly to Spain to meet with a potential investor. But I promise to watch your speech on the trip there.” 

Just as Ava’s about to press for more information about Vincent’s impromptu trip, his phone rings. Vincent glances at the screen and his face turns apologetic. “I’m so sorry, but I have to take this. It’s the investor.” He quickly shrugs on his coat, “Thank you for dinner.”

Ava shrugs. “Next one’s on you,” she says, pointing her fork at him. 

“Of course.” He gives her a warm smile. _It’s not him. It could never be him._ “Knock ‘em dead, kid.” Vincent winks, squeezing her shoulder before he takes his leave. 

No, Vincent doesn’t seem like he would do this to the company—to Ava. 

Then, why does Ava have a sinking feeling in her chest? 

She sighs and motions for the check. 

\- 

Her clock reads 3 a.m. 

Ava rolls to the other side of the bed and huffs in frustration as she looks up at the ceiling. 

Moonlight filters in from the windows, casting a dim glow in her bedroom. She’s still living at _The Archer,_ just four floors up from her previous hotel room. It’s one of their presidential suites, a temporary arrangement until Ava can find a suitable place to live. 

She could just as easily go back to the Griffiths’ townhouse, it’s hers now—another thing that had been left to her in their will, but something about dredging up those old memories keeps her from visiting that empty building. 

It’s a sleepless night, something that was always a regular occurrence whenever the hamster wheel inside Ava’s brain was running at top speed. Tonight, her brain was running itself ragged coming up with ridiculous theories. 

She stares at the ceiling, brain dissecting every interaction she’s had with Vincent. Just as she tries to twist to her side, a sharp stab of pain in her lower back makes itself known, almost as a protest to her overthinking. _Ow._

_Fuck. Not again._

The problem first started after the car accident. Miraculously, she had made a full recovery, despite the damage to her spine, but not without its form of consequences. 

On particularly cold days, there were times when her lower back would ache with pain, making it hard for her to get out of bed, let alone walk. Ava had made peace with it, but sometimes it would make itself known under moments of stress, bringing back the dull throb in her spine that would become worse and worse with every passing moment she spent drowning in her stressor. 

She remembers seeing some Advil in one of the kitchen cabinets, but Ava can’t get to it without agitating her back further. Still, she’s nothing if not stubborn. Ava tries to get up and in response her spine throbs with pain. “Fuck!” She cries out in frustration.

Ava flops back down on her bed in defeat and reaches for her phone. She taps her screen, mindlessly checking her notifications. 

There’s a few texts from JC that she ignores. There’s also a voicemail left from the doctor’s office confirming her next monthly appointment. It was something Vincent had set up for her once he found out about her back pains. 

The thought of him leaves Ava feeling anxious, but she doesn’t want to dwell on it further so Ava quickly busies herself with scrolling through social media, trying to chase away all thoughts of the company. She’s scrolling through her instagram feed when she comes across a particular post from Bash. _Omnia_ , the location tag reads. That was the club where she and Beatrice had first met. 

A small smile forms on her face as she remembers that night. She bits her lip in contemplation before coming to a decision. Her fingers gravitate towards the mail app and before she knows it, she’s typing up a draft. 

**To:** Beatrice K., Chief Financial Officer [Accounting & Finance, New York branch]  
 **From:** Ava S., Chief Executive Officer [All departments, New York branch]  
 **Subject:** important question (!)

hi bea, 

excited for the trip?

-a xx.  
Sent from my iPhone

She sends off the email without a second thought and busies herself with watching mindless youtube videos in an effort to pass the time. She doesn’t expect Beatrice to be awake right now, especially after having spent the previous night going through the company’s financial records, but a small part of her hopes that she replies back soon.

It seems that the midnight gods have answered her prayers, because after watching three Tiny Kitchen videos, Ava is graced with a reply.

**To:** Ava S., Chief Executive Officer [All departments, New York branch]  
 **From:** Beatrice K., Chief Financial Officer [Accounting & Finance, New York branch]  
 **Subject:** Re: important question (!)

Ava—

I appreciate the check-in, even if it is in the middle of the night. These next two days will be very busy, so I advise getting some sleep. 

In the future, please refrain from marking non-work emails as urgent.

Good night,  
Beatrice

Ava frowns. Eyes squinting against the harsh glare of the screen as she lets her fingers fly across the keyboard. 

**To:** Beatrice K., Chief Financial Officer [Accounting & Finance, New York branch]  
 **From:** Ava S., Chief Executive Officer [All departments, New York branch]  
 **Subject:** Re: important question (!)

:( u didnt answer my question

also ur telling me to go to sleep but ur awake. why are u awake?

-ava x.x.

Ava sends off the email and hugs the phone to her chest, staring at the ceiling with a smile on her face. 

Only a few minutes pass before her phone vibrates again. Ava’s heart flutters in response. _Oh god._ She’s getting butterflies from exchanging emails. _Is this her new low?_ But a small part of her enjoys it. It’s been a long time since she’s felt like this. Beatrice had reignited that feeling inside her chest and Ava would be lying if she said that she wanted it to stop. 

**To:** Ava S., Chief Executive Officer [All departments, New York branch]  
 **From:** Beatrice K., Chief Financial Officer [Accounting & Finance, New York branch]  
 **Subject:** Re: important question (!)

I am doing some early prepwork for the press conference and conducting some research regarding our...other project. 

What is your reason for being awake?

-Beatrice

**To:** Beatrice K., Chief Financial Officer [Accounting & Finance, New York branch]  
 **From:** Ava S., Chief Executive Officer [All departments, New York branch]  
 **Subject:** Re: important question (!)

Omg THAT project! so not jealous of u.

and i can’t sleep :/ sadly

**To:** Ava S., Chief Executive Officer [All departments, New York branch]  
 **From:** Beatrice K., Chief Financial Officer [Accounting & Finance, New York branch]  
 **Subject:** Re: important question (!)

So you thought that you would use the company email for questions unrelated to work?

If you do not try to sleep now, you won’t be able to stay awake during the event.

-B

**To:** Beatrice K., Chief Financial Officer [Accounting & Finance, New York branch]  
 **From:** Ava S., Chief Executive Officer [All departments, New York branch]  
 **Subject:** Re: important question (!)

i dont have ur number, how else am i supposed to contact you after hours?

and don’t worry bea, I’ll make sure to show up with designer bags under my eyes. only the finest 😌

p.s. you should take ur own advice and try to get some sleep as well. work can wait.

She waits around, turning on the tv. It’s playing reruns of Law and Order, but it manages to hold her attention for a while. Eventually she gets tired and opts to go back to her phone. 

At 3:48 a.m., her phone buzzes with a reply.

**To:** Ava S., Chief Executive Officer [All departments, New York branch]  
 **From:** Beatrice K., Chief Financial Officer [Accounting & Finance, New York branch]  
 **Subject:** Re: important question (!)

Unfortunately, this is not something that can wait, but I appreciate your concern.

-B

Ava furrows her brow. Just as her fingers hover over the keyboard, ready to type, another reply comes in. 

**To:** Ava S., Chief Executive Officer [All departments, New York branch]  
 **From:** Beatrice K., Chief Financial Officer [Accounting & Finance, New York branch]  
 **Subject:** Re: important question (!)

I do take my work very seriously, so in the future, if you actually happen to have an emergency question—

212-847-6650

-B

Ava lets out a breathless laugh, giving a silent fist pump before adding the number to her contacts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone pls ignore me while i pretend ava completed business school before the age of 21. and thank u so much for ur kudos and comments last chapter!! i always love hearing from u guys :')
> 
> sigh guys i almost failed one of my exams last week, election week is giving me a heart condition, but hey i got another chapter out! hope u all enjoyed this one bc things are going to be picking up now! woo
> 
> who do u all think did it? what are ur theories? shout them out in the comments down below! 
> 
> alternatively, if u think ive committed any crimes, come yell at me on tumblr @analogoose or reach out to me on the wn discord
> 
> see u all next time!


	4. Bold Moves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What the fuck. Beatrice is going to leave this press conference with a medical condition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u all for ur lovely comments and kudos last chapter! hearing from u all always fills my heart with joy. and thank you so much for being so patient with me as i finished my exams. this chapter is long overdue, but i hope it was worth the wait!
> 
> also: TW for mentions of overdose. it occurs around "But she remembers being at a dinner..." and "The words burst out of her mouth..."

“The plane was supposed to leave 30 minutes ago. ”

Ava rolls her eyes, dropping down into one of the seats. “Don’t get your panties in a twist. We don’t even have anything planned for tonight.” 

Lilith scowls, but says nothing, instead motioning the flight attendant for some alcohol. She guesses that if Lilith is going to be spending the next seven hours confined in a tight space with Ava, she probably needs something more than a Diet Coke to get through this. Understandable, because Ava’s sure she needs at least three shots of tequila before she can hold a proper, civil conversation with Satan, herself. 

When the pilot’s voice comes on over the intercom, Ava dutifully buckles her seatbelt. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Lilith down a shot before silently motioning for another one. She’s half-tempted, herself, to ask for a bottle of champagne and then chug it in front of her, while making uncomfortable eye contact. 

Just to piss her off.

The takeoff is smooth and they’re in the air within minutes, overlooking the city as the sun sets across the horizon. The sky is streaked with bright oranges and deep reds. Ava takes some time to look out the window and admire the brilliant streaks of color. 

They’re now due to land in Seattle around 12 a.m. (slightly her fault for being late, but whatever. She couldn’t find her laptop charger), where a driver would take them straight to their hotel. There wasn’t anything planned for tonight except sleeping—and catching the embezzler. Tomorrow’s itinerary would entail _a lot_ more, with Ava having to give a speech, then being forced to interact with other rich people at the site of their new launch, all the while fending off whatever exhausting concerns her company would face due to the embezzler. 

Her job was fucking hard.

Ava looks to Beatrice who hasn’t said a word since Ava got on this plane, seemingly too engrossed in whatever was on her computer screen to pay attention to anything around her. 

She bites her lip before reaching over to poke the other woman. 

Beatrice’s brow furrows, her nose scrunching adorably before she tears her gaze away from the screen and looks at Ava. She tips her head to the side with a questioning glance and Ava’s heart flutters inside of her chest. Oh god, what was happening to her? 

“Whatcha doin’?” She asks, flashing Beatrice a brilliant smile before leaning over her seat to look at the screen.

Beatrice shifts the laptop so that Ava can see. “I’m going through the financial records for every board member. Checking for any suspicious purchases and any other odd activity.”

Ava frowns, eyes scanning the documents. “Camila already sent them over? Why didn’t you tell us?” 

Beatrice shrugs. “I was going to once I had a chance to review the information myself.”

Ava narrows her eyes. “That’s a lot of work for someone to do on their own.” She glances at Lilith before turning back to Beatrice, an idea coming to her mind. “Lilith and I can help you! It’s not like we have anything else to do.”

Lilith grunts. “As much as I hate to agree with Ava, she’s right. We’re stuck here for the next seven hours, might as well put them to good use.”

Beatrice stares at them for a beat before acquiescing. She reaches into her laptop bag and pulls out a flash drive, passing it to Ava. “All of the information is in here. We’re trying not to leave a digital trail by sending anything.” 

Ava nods, rummaging through her own bag before pulling out her laptop to download them. Once she has all of the information on her device, she scans through it before noticing an odd detail. “Not everyone is on here.”

Beatrice nods. “Camila and Mary have the rest. We felt it would be safer if all of the information wasn’t stored on one drive.” That means they probably have Vincent’s records. Ava internally curses. She was hoping to be the one to look at his records. If it did turn out that he was the embezzler, she wanted to be the one who caught him. Her chest feels heavy with panic as she realizes _this is it._ It’s either him or someone else.

Ava crosses her fingers and really hopes it’s the latter. She doesn’t think she can handle a betrayal from someone who’s basically her godfather and the _only_ parental figure left in her life that hasn’t died yet. 

Lilith taps at her keyboard. “We can split up the work. I’ll take Pearson and Hubbard.”

Ava squints at the screen. “I guess I can take Soros and Duretti.”

“I’m almost finished with Godfrey and then I can take Allard and Leroy,” Beatrice replies.

The next couple of hours are spent in companionable silence as they all sift through pages upon pages of financial records, trying to flag any suspicious activity or purchases. Ava takes multiple breaks throughout it all, much to her companions’ annoyances—mostly Lilith’s. She would get up to stretch, ask for snacks at every thirty-minute intervals before pacing back and forth on the plane while reading the information on her laptop.

Ava stops walking. “What the heck?” She brings the screen closer to her eyes as if that will magically cause the information to make sense. 

Beatrice makes a noise of confusion. “What’s wrong?”

Ava shakes her head. “Everything looks fine with Duretti too. There’s nothing on his records that looks weird.” 

She brings her laptop over to the table and tilts it in Beatrice’s and Lilith’s direction. “Here, look, there’s no suspicious purchases or deposits. The only recurring things in his bank activity are,” she scrunches her face, “deposits from an acquisitions company every two months.” She raises her hands in the hair, “which is normal, right? Our Board members manage other corporations too.”

Lilith taps her finger on the table impatiently. “It’s the same with all of the others too. I didn’t find anything wrong on my end. Even their withdrawals aren’t suspicious. There’s no funneling money into a secret account or anything.” She slams her hand on the table. “It doesn’t make any fucking sense. If it’s not someone on the Board, then who is it?”

Beatrice taps at the keyboard, examining the information herself. “It says here that the company is called RNG. Have either of you heard of it before?”

The three of them exchange a look. Ava is the first to shake her head with Lilith following suit. They do a quick Google search, looking for any information they can find about its owner, but it proves to be challenging. One look at Beatrice’s face and Ava knows that this is bad news. They’re unable to find any mention of the company in the media either. 

With a grim look on her face, Beatrice takes out her phone, immediately dialing for their CIO. “Camila, how soon can you get access to records for a company called RNG Acquisitions?” 

Ava tries to listen in, but whatever Camila says isn’t loud enough for her to hear. Beatrice nods, replying with a quick, “we’ll wait,” before setting the phone on speaker. There’s some shuffling around on the other end of the phone, the distinct sound of keys hitting the board, a few clicks of a mouse, then a small gasp.

 _“Guys, it’s him,”_ Camila says.

“What?!” 

Another voice comes on the line, Mary, this time. _“Camila and I are looking at the transactions and it’s a shell company. The most recent deposits RNG received are the exact amounts we’ve been missing from our company.”_

There’s a curse, the distinct sound of something being smashed and then Camila’s voice comes back, _“He’s using a shell company to store the stolen money. Every two months, he transfers a small amount over to his main account. The deposits are small enough that it won’t make anyone suspicious. You wouldn’t know if you weren’t looking.”_

“Goddamnit,” Lilith snarls. 

Ava knows she should be upset about this development. Duretti had obviously been an important member of the company, he was one of the ones who had supported the Griffiths and their incredibly unpopular decision—at that time—to change the direction of the company, but all she feels is an overwhelming sense of relief. Relief that it wasn’t Vincent.

There’s a stab of guilt as she realizes that she should have never even suspected Vincent in the first place. _He would never do that to you._

Beatrice pinches the bridge of her nose and Ava immediately feels guilty for finding comfort in something that’s about to be a massive headache for her team and the company.

 _“I’ll get the information to my contact at the New York Times,”_ Mary says. 

“Thank you, both of you.” 

_“Of course. Take care. We’ll talk to you tomorrow.”_

The line clicks as the call ends. Beatrice pockets her cell phone and shuts her laptop with a mumbled, “I’m going to catch up on some sleep.”

Ava opens her mouth to say something, but thinks better of it. Instead, she quietly walks to the front of the cabin to fix herself a snack.

Tomorrow is going to be a _long_ day.

-

“Have you had any media training?”

Ava gives a confused look, scrunching her face up in thought as she tries to remember the last time Vincent had brought in the PR team to coach her. “A little, but it’s been a few years.”

“Fuck. Well, we don’t have time for a refresher course,” Lilith snaps. “Just don’t say anything that could get you in trouble. And don’t _let_ anyone make you say anything that could get you in trouble.” Beatrice watches as she anxiously paces back and forth. At this rate, Lilith is going to wear a hole into the floor before Ava’s speech even starts.

“It’s fine,” Beatrice says, the epitome of calm and collected on the outside. She did come prepared, after all. Beatrice had expected something like this so she had taken the initiative to reach out to their PR team to craft a statement for Ava. She reaches into her blazer to pull out a stack of notecards. “Just say what’s on the cards and you’ll be fine.” She levels Ava with the most intense stare. “Do not go off script,” she stresses. 

Ava glances down at the cards, flipping through them. “I’m sure you’ve all heard the news by now. We do not condone Raymond Durretti’s actions in any way blah blah blah,” She looks up, waving the cards incredulously, “Beatrice, this makes me sound like a robot!”

Beatrice sighs, she can already feel a headache emerging. “The cards are there to keep you from saying anything that might cause trouble.” She keeps her voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

Ava huffs, crossing her arms, as stage technicians do their last minute adjustments and mic-checks. 

Once they’re sure everything is good, Beatrice and Lilith leave the backstage area, making it back in time just to watch as Ava saunters onto the stage, greeting the audience. They stay closer to the back of the room, just so that they can observe Ava _and_ everyone else without having any of attention directed back at them. 

Ava looks bright and full of life, not even the least bit uncomfortable despite all of the lights on her. “Sooo… I woke up and saw my company in the news today. Imagine my relief when I found out it wasn’t me this time.” Ava lets out a small laugh but the audience stays silent. 

Oh my god, Beatrice wants to disappear into the ground. _The cards, Ava! Use the cards!_ She internally cringes. Beside her, Lilith stands with her arms crossed, a smug smile in place as she watches it all go down. 

Ava pulls an exaggerated frown. “No takers? Too early, huh?” She shakes her head. “I was told to stick to the script. Apparently I’m a PR risk,” she phrases the statement in quotes. There’s a small buzz of laughter, this time. Ava’s eyes search through the crowd with a sort of curious intensity before they land on Beatrice. Maintaining eye contact, she says, “Sorry to disappoint, but I’ve never been good at following rules.” Then she _winks_ at Beatrice before throwing the notecards behind her and the crowd bursts out into raucous laughter. 

_What the fuck._ Beatrice is going to leave this press conference with a medical condition. 

Ava patiently waits for the crowd to quiet down, abandoning the podium in favor of walking closer to her audience. “This life was never meant to be mine.” She pauses, looking down at the ground before looking out at her audience. “My birth mother, she was an investigative journalist. A really good one too, I’m sure you guys know _all_ about it,” Ava chuckles ruefully. “We were in Spain. She was chasing a story, I was seven, so we decided to make a holiday out of it.” 

Beatrice is familiar with the story before, they had gotten the footnotes version from Vincent before, but to hear it from Ava, in front of a room full of strangers is entirely something else. She can’t help but be mesmerized by her, eyes following Ava as she trails across the stage.

“Then, well, trip got cut a little short. I ended up in an orphanage in Spain and my mom, six feet in the ground,” she flashes the crowd an empty smile and Beatrice’s heart clenches painfully. “Fast forward to a year later, the Griffiths were in town, doing some work with the local orphanages. They saw me and now here I am, thirteen years later; CEO of a multimillion-dollar company.” 

She stops pacing on the podium. “If my adoptive parents were still alive, I would ask them _what the fuck were they thinking?_ Putting _me_ in charge?” The audience laughs loudly and Ava laughs with them for a minute before her face sobers up, something critical in her expression as she pins the crowd with her gaze. “But they saw something in me. They _trusted_ me.” It’s quiet now, the room holding onto Ava’s every word and Beatrice finds that she is too.

“I know you’re all shocked by the news. I know I am, too.” Ava stops her pacing, eyes piercing as she surveys the room. “You all trusted my parents when they changed the direction of this company. Now, I am asking you all to put that same trust in me.” She lets her gaze run over the room. “What Raymond Duretti did was horrible and we will be fully compensating those who were affected. Trust that I will follow through. Trust that we will never lead you astray.”

Beatrice’s chest swells with something like _pride_ and another feeling that’s so warm and sudden that she doesn’t notice it. 

Ava’s lips quirk up into a small smile. “OCS has always protected the interests of the people. Trust that we will continue to do so, as long as you let us.” Ava steps back and the room bursts out into loud applause as people cheer. Beatrice finds herself clapping loudly in surprise as she stares at Ava, looking at her CEO with new understanding.

As much as she doesn’t want to, Beatrice tears her eyes away from Ava and sneaks a glance at the people around her. Her brows shift when she’s surprised to find that they’ve all been _listening._ Even Lilith, whose face has taken on a more thoughtful expression as she claps.

Ava retreats back to the podium, leaning against it in a lazy manner. “Now, you’ve all been such a good crowd for me tonight. It’s only fair that I reward you.” She smirks, “I know the press has been _dying_ to get their hands on me,” she winks again, and _oh god,_ Beatrice knew it. There was no way she was going to leave this conference alive, she should have known it was too good to be true. 

“So as a parting gift, I’ll let you guys ask your questions.” Then, as an afterthought she adds, “Can’t promise that I’ll answer them,” and the room laughs goodnaturedly as the reporters clamor to be the first to raise their hands with a chorus of _Ms. Silvia!_ while the cameras continue to click furiously. 

Lilith exchanges a look with her and Beatrice just wants to melt into a puddle on the floor. _Shit._ They didn’t tell her to take questions. Ava has no filter, the reporters are going to eat her alive.

“You there! In the gorgeous blue jumpsuit, what’s your name?” Ava flashes her a flirty smile. 

If they came out of this event without a sexual harassment lawsuit against Ava, she was going to count it a miracle. 

“Maria Haas with _Vice,_ ma’am. Those were protected financial records. How do you think they were leaked?”

Ava grins. “Well, Ms. Haas, I can’t speculate as to who it is. All I say is: thank you. Thank you to whoever leaked them, because without you, we would have never known.” 

The woman gives a nod, scribbling on her notepad before sitting down. Ava looks around the room some more before pointing at someone in the back and Beatrice’s heart immediately drops. _No no no._

“Crimson Krier with the _Washington Post._ ” The woman flashes Ava a vicious smile. “As you reminded us in your speech, recently, you were just in the news for partaking in some questionable nighttime activities. Wouldn’t you say we have a right to be skeptical about putting our trust in you if you’re spending your nights experimenting with drugs?”

 _Damn it._ Crimson was notorious for being cutthroat and had made it her personal mission to antagonize the whole of OCS, and now, it seems she was coming after Ava. Beatrice knew they should have never allowed her entry to begin with, but that would have meant showing weakness against a reporter. They’d tried to look for avenues to discredit her credibility as a reporter, but the woman was nothing if not a shark. Beatrice, grudgingly admits, that she was at least a little bit impressed by the woman’s pursuit of hard truths, even if she didn’t necessarily agree with how she always put OCS in the spotlight.

Ava leans forward, eyes hard. “Are you doubting my ability to lead, Ms. Krier?”

_No! Deflect, not push back._

“I don’t have to doubt anything, Ms. Silvia.” She gives Ava a sickeningly sweet smile. “Your track record in the press speaks for itself,” Crimson finishes, eyebrows raised with an unspoken challenge.

Beatrice’s stomach drops. Next to her, she sees Lilith ball up her fists. Crimson didn’t outright state it, but she didn’t have to. Everyone in the room knew exactly what she was talking about, and she was only reminding them of it.

Beatrice was only a couple years older than Ava when it had happened. But she remembers being at a dinner with her parents and some of the older board members. They had turned on the TV only to see a report of the young OCS heiress being rushed to the hospital after overdosing on drugs. Vincent had immediately left to go control the situation and get the story taken down as soon as possible, but the damage had already been done. 

Ava sighs. “My teenage years were...difficult and I understand that’s no excuse, but I’m sorry that you all had to see that. I regret that my past actions may have led you all to doubt me and I can only hope that my future actions will speak for themselves.” Beatrice can see Ava’s white-knuckled grip as she grasps the edges of the podium while addressing the crowd. 

“Alright folks, I’ve held you long enough, so that’s all for now.” She can tell that Ava’s posture is all stiff and _wrong_ and she knows that the last question affected Ava more than she showed it. “I release you from this room and ask you all to go have fun! Mingle, enjoy the refreshments. The groundbreaking ceremony will start at 5.” Ava flashes them all a blinding, yet incredibly _fake_ smile before stepping down from the stage.

The crowd starts to disperse with everyone moving over to the main area, but Beatrice remains stuck to the ground. She watches as Ava all but practically runs to the open bar at the other end of the event room and her chest echoes with a pang. She makes a mental note to talk to her when things calm down. 

-

Ava hears footsteps approaching her in the distance. She doesn’t have to turn her head to know that it’s Lilith. No one else walks that menacingly. She just slumps against the hotel bar, miserably cradling her drink. “I just let her shit all over me, didn’t I?” Ava says, glumly.

Lilith pauses for a moment before her hand awkwardly comes up to give a stilted pat on Ava’s back before immediately dropping it. “For someone with almost no media training, you handled it all surprisingly...well.”

She perks up like a puppy who had just been given its favorite treat. “Aww, I knew you liked me, Lil.” She playfully bumps the other woman’s shoulder who steps away with a small look of disgust, but Ava knows it’s just to keep up appearances. Lilith _complimented_ her. Somewhere, deep down in her stone cold heart, Lilith _liked_ her. 

“Fuck off,” she responds gruffly, but lacking any of the bite that one would expect. 

She beams. “Love you too, _Lily,”_ she says before quickly dashing from the bar before Lilith can dropkick her in the head. 

Ava takes the elevator up to her room. Usually, she would be up for exploring the city, but the day’s events had left her drained. As soon as she gets inside her room, she takes off her shoes and collapses on her bed, sinking into the softness. 

She lounges around for a good hour or so, mindlessly scrolling through her phone, checking out some of the drinks in her mini-bar before ordering some room service. She doesn’t have to wait long because the food arrives fast. A hotel staff member ushers in the cart. Ava thanks him, giving him a hefty tip before closing the door.

She takes a look at everything she ordered before her forehead scrunches up in thought. She had definitely ordered more food than necessary for one person. Ava glances at her phone, debating her options. She has Beatrice’s number programmed into her phone. All it would take is a quick text, inviting her over for some food and maybe a movie?

She quickly backpedals. Not like a date or anything because that would be _ridiculous,_ and if she was going to take Beatrice out on a date, then it would be somewhere exciting and actually fun, not her hotel room. Not that she would, of course, because she and Beatrice were coworkers. A coworker that Ava would really like to cultivate a friendship with. Nothing more. 

But Beatrice had been silent all day, and a part of Ava had missed her company. She couldn’t help but think it was because the CFO was upset with her earlier antics at the event today.

Ava pulls up Beatrice’s contact on her phone, fingers hovering over the keyboard. 

**Ava [10:45 p.m.]:** _hey bea! whatcha up to?_

That was a safe start to a conversation right? Ava bites the inside of her cheek before grabbing a churro to gnaw on as she waits on a response from Beatrice.

 **Beatrice [10:50 p.m.]:** _Hello Ava. I’m getting a head start on reviewing some budget proposals for R &D's new projects_

Okay, no sign of being actively hostile over text. Maybe, it was safe to proceed?

 **Ava [10:51 p.m.]:** _:( ur always working! do u ever relax?_

 **Beatrice [10:52 p.m.]:** _I sleep..._

 **Ava [10:52 p.m.]:** _doesn't count! i ordered too much room service. how about u take a break and come help me finish it?_

 **Ava [10:53 p.m.]:** _i know u like crab rolls…_

The next time Ava hears a reply, it comes in the form of a knock at her door. She bounces off of her bed in glee, quickly walking over there. 

“Beatrice! Hi.” 

“Hi.” Beatrice gives a hesitant smile of her own. “I am actually quite hungry. I didn’t have a chance to eat much today,” she admits. 

Ava laughs and lets her in. “Grab whatever you want. You can sit on the bed, I don’t mind.” 

Beatrice perches on the edge of her bed and Ava has to keep herself from rolling her eyes as she flops down on her side, stretching her legs out. “You can _fully_ sit on the bed, you know? I won’t bite. Not unless you want me to.”

Beatrice shoots her a look before grabbing the plate of crab rolls and scooting closer to Ava, leaning her back against the headboard. 

“Are you angry with me?” She can’t help but immediately blurt out. It had been on her mind since the event had concluded. Beatrice had all but avoided Ava after her speech, she couldn’t but think it was because she did something wrong. 

Beatrice cocks her head. “Why would I be angry?”

Ava wrings her hands together. “Because I didn’t follow the script.” 

Beatrice silently studies her for a minute. “I’m sorry if I made you feel that way, Ava. I was a little surprised when you deviated from the cards,” she admits, “but, you handled everything well.” She gives Ava a small smile, “I am proud of you.”

Ava uneasily returns it. Something like that, coming from Beatrice, is a compliment of the highest honor. It should make her feel happy, so why does she still feel like she shot her fucking dog. “But, with Crimson, I didn’t—”

Beatrice shakes her head. “Crimson is known to get under people’s skins. She’s always had it out for OCS. I’m sorry that you had to be on the receiving end of that today.”

 _Oh._ Well, that was something she certainly hadn’t expected from Beatrice. She had thought that maybe Beatrice would give her the cold shoulder, or yell at her for being reckless or not following direction, not show understanding and sympathy for her. For Ava of all people.

Her throat tightens with emotion and Ava breaks Beatrice’s intense gaze in favor of looking around the room for something to occupy herself. She grabs the TV remote off of the nightstand and mirror’s Beatrice’s position. She flips through the channels before settling on a rerun of an old tv show. “This okay?” She finally asks.

Beatrice nods, attention captured by the TV. “I used to watch this when I was younger,” she quietly comments.

Ava laughs. “No way! Beatrice watches tv?” She says in a scandalized tone.

“I’m not a robot,” Beatrice defensively replies.

Ava’s face softens. “I know you’re not.” She reaches out and softly touches Beatrice’s arm, giving a small squeeze. “You’re incredibly thoughtful. And I know you deeply care for our team, even if you don’t show it.” 

It’s said with such conviction and reverence that Beatrice looks slightly caught off-guard before the walls go up and her face turns blank. She finally relents with a small smile and a slightly embarrassed _thank you._

They turn back to the TV, watching the rest of the episode in silence. 

Ava swallows tightly. Her chest feeling heavy with emotion while her brain runs over what happened today. The words burst out of her mouth before she even has a chance to think about them. “I didn’t overdose—that night. Not on purpose, anyways.” She licks her lips nervously, opening and closing her mouth as she tries to find the right words.

Beatrice’s hand comes to rest in the small space between them, in an attempt to reassure. “You don’t have to explain anything to me,” she says, face so earnest that Ava feels like crying. 

“—No, I—I want to.” Her hands clench her sheets before slowly releasing. She doesn’t know why, but it’s important to her that Beatrice knows that. Knows Ava. 

At Beatrice’s small, encouraging nod, she continues. “I _was_ at a party that night. And I _was_ taking drugs. But, what I took, wasn’t nearly enough to make me OD. I remember that night.” She stares straight ahead, releasing a shaky breath. “Someone handed me a drink—someone I thought was my friend—and then, the next thing I knew, I was in the hospital with the doctor telling me they had to restart my heart twice.” 

She pushes her plate aside, not really in the mood to eat anymore. “They found high levels of barbiturates and a cocktail of other drugs in my system,” Ava finishes bitterly. “And by the time the media caught wind of what happened, it was too late to control the narrative.”

A soft touch on her shoulder breaks her out of her thoughts. “I’m sorry that happened to you,” Beatrice says with such conviction.

Ava gives her a sad smile. “I know my reputation in the media. Sometimes, it’s just easier to let people believe what they want, but I’m not what the tabloids make me out to be, Beatrice, I’m _not.”_

Beatrice moves closer, tipping Ava’s chin in her direction and forcing her to make eye contact. _I know,_ Ava. I know you aren’t. You’re _more_ than that, Ava. You have so much good in you. You inspire me every day to be a better person.” 

_Fuck._ Ava takes in Beatrice’s face, the brown eyes that shine with such brilliance. The same intelligent eyes that met hers on the club floor and Ava felt like her heart stopped beating. The eyes that contain a multitude of worlds behind them. It fills Ava with such an intense and urgent need to get to know everything behind them. To get to know everything about Beatrice.

Then, Beatrice does the one thing that Ava had never expected her to do in a million years. 

She kisses her.

_Beatrice kisses her._

Her body freezes as her mind desperately tries to catch up with that fact that there are soft lips touching her own. _Beatrice’s_ soft lips. 

It’s only when those lips start to pull away from her that Ava’s body finally unfreezes and she pulls Beatrice back in, finally reciprocating as her lips move desperately against Beatrice’s. Her heart slams against her ribs as she kisses back with intent, running her tongue over Beatrice’s lip then her tongue. 

She hears a small gasp escape from Beatrice before a hand snakes to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in hair as she’s roughly pulled in closer, mouths clashing against each other.

The kiss is messy, desperate, and Ava drinks it all up like a dying man in a desert. 

Ava groans softly into her mouth, arching into Beatrice’s touch. She feels something shift under her, realizing that she’s half straddling Beatrice, with one leg thrown over her thigh as she tries to mould their bodies together. She shifts, to fully bracket Beatrice’s legs between her thighs. Her hands move on autopilot as they slide down to where Beatrice’s shirt is tucked into her slack. One hand quickly untucks the shirt before sliding underneath, fingers meeting soft skin as they trace her lower back. 

Beatrice immediately breaks the kiss apart, fist bunched in Ava’s shirt, eyes vibrant with lust. “Just for tonight,” she rasps, voice rough with desire. 

All Ava can do is nod, pupils dilated, chest heaving as her lungs cycle through air, not quite able to catch her breath as she’s pulled back in for another messy kiss.

 _Fuck,_ she’s so far gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! A Lot happened in this chapter, but i hope it didnt feel too rushed. it's officially my fall break, so i will be buckling down this week to write write write so that i can hopefully get another chapter out for u guys before finals week.
> 
> let me kno in the comments down below what u think of all the surprises dropped in this chapter! 
> 
> alternatively, if u think ive committed any crimes, come yell at me on tumblr @analogoose or find me on the wn discord
> 
> see u all soon!


	5. Strategic Retreat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was more than a mistake, it was a goddamn mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> had this sitting around for a while so i went ahead and cleaned it up for yall. thank u all so much for ur amazing comments and kudos last chapter, seriously they mean the world to me. i always go back and read them any time im struggling with a scene or not feeling my best. ur all so lovely 
> 
> also note/TW: mentions of heavy drinking in this chapter

Beatrice’s heart pounds against her ribs as she quickly slips out of Ava’s room. She felt like a fucking one-night-stand trying to escape from the awkwardness of a morning after. Except that was the punchline, wasn’t it? This wasn’t a one-night-stand anymore. And Beatrice wasn’t going to dwell on what it now meant. How she had carelessly blurred the lines in her professional relationship until there wasn’t anything professional about it before. 

She hurries down the hall, trying to get back to her own room to avoid making the Walk of Shame in front of any wayward hotel guests. There’s a small click behind her and Beatrices picks up the pace, mostly out of caution, until she’s safely inside her room.

She had felt it building up ever since the moment Ava had stepped inside her office that day. She thought she could ignore it, shove it all down and pretend it never happened, treat Ava like any other coworker—it was just a one-night-stand for fuck’s sake and Beatrice was a bloody _professional_. But then Ava had to go and be nice and _understanding_ and just look at her with those puppy eyes and everything fell apart. 

She leans against the back of her door, trying to compose herself while the warring thoughts in her mind continue their assault. 

Beatrice knew better than to judge a book by its cover, but still, she was only human, and like everyone else, she couldn’t help but make certain assumptions about the young heiress. Unfortunately, Ava had managed to destroy every one of them.

In a matter of less than two weeks, Ava had become someone Beatrice found herself genuinely enjoying the company of. Her meticulous, fortified walls had crumbled into dust the second the human embodiment of a golden retriever stepped into her life. 

Ava was filled with boundless energy and optimism. She shined so bright, and Beatrice was nothing if not a moth to a flame. Her eyes shone with such vibrance. She was so full with life, despite the loss and responsibility her shoulders bared as if they were nothing more than a small backpack and not a crushing weight on her back.

She knew it was a mistake to give Ava her number. She knew that doing so would only open up the possibility of there being something _more_ between them. Something more than just a work relationship. Something like friends. Except, Beatrice had gone and even fucked that up by completing skipping over the friends part and shoving her tongue down Ava’s throat. 

Once could be written off as an honest mistake, but twice? She didn’t even have the crutch of alcohol this time, barring any excuse for a lapse in judgement. She had been in full control of her faculties last night when she decided to shove herself on Ava. 

It was more than a mistake, it was a goddamn _mess._

Maybe, if Beatrice hadn’t gone to the club that night, she would have never experienced a night of being with Ava that left her craving for more. Maybe, if Beatrice had remained cold and distant, Ava would have tried to give up interacting with her. Maybe, if she hadn’t reached over that table, hand ready to wipe Ava’s face. Maybe, if Beatrice had declined Ava’s invitation last night, this would have never happened.

And maybe if she had turned around in the hallway, she might have seen that the click she had heard behind her was Lilith’s door opening, but Beatrice was only focused on the chaos in her mind as she tried to create a plan after the events last night. 

She had made the mess, now she was going to have to be the one to clean it up.

Diagnose and create a treatment plan, her grandfather would say, ever the genius surgeon who spent every family gathering filling Beatrice’s head with medical wisdom in her younger years. In another life, she might have considered it as an alternate profession—she certainly had the mental fortitude for it—if she hadn’t wanted to distance herself from her family so badly.

So she runs through the course of events in her mind, trying to identify where it all went wrong. Ava had been so inviting to her. She was, after all, a very desirable woman, and anyone in Beatrice’s shoes could see that. Ava had occupied every corner of Beatrice’s mind for the past week, and then there she was, only a few inches away from her, looking every bit as ethereal as the images Beatrice’s mind had conjured up as a poor substitution for the real thing. 

All Beatrice had to do was lean in. 

So that was it then. Just a simple case of desire. Alright, step one completed. She had diagnosed the problem, now all she had to was administer a treatment so that she could be rid of this distraction. Luckily, Beatrice knew just the cure. She was nothing if not a problem solver. 

So her solution? Simple. Stay away. 

Stay very far away and the desire will fade and she’ll be able to banish these unprofessional thoughts from her mind. 

It wasn’t going to be easy, especially when Ava lingered in every crevice of her mind, but that’s why Beatrice had to do this. And until she did, Beatrice couldn’t trust herself to be alone with Ava.

-

It had been a week since Seattle. A week since Beatrice had started actively avoiding her. 

When Ava had kissed Beatrice that night, she did it with the hope that maybe things would be different. That maybe, this was Beatrice acknowledging the presence of what existed between them. Something that was more than just a product of a night out at a club.

She had felt a connection between them, ever since that night. A connection that had only amplified, the more time they spent with each other. She was _attracted_ to Beatrice. And who wouldn’t be? The woman was super hot, incredibly smart, and secretly a softie despite the cold exterior she projected. Ava couldn’t deny her feelings even if she wanted to. 

But when she woke up to an empty bed the next morning, she realized that nothing had changed. That’s fine. She was content to remain friends with Beatrice. The first day back from their trip, she texts Beatrice, asking her if she would like to get some lunch, but her text goes unanswered. Okay. So she drops by Beatrice’s office after a couple of hours to check on her, only to be blocked by Beatrice’s PA who is adamant on not allowing Ava to enter, stating that the CFO is incredibly busy. 

Ava just shrugs her shoulders and retreats back to her office. Beatrice is always overworking herself, it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

The next day, she is met with the same answer (or rather lack of), and Beatrice’s PA once again, deters Ava from entering her office. 

Frustrated, she, unfortunately, spams Beatrice with several messages and a few calls— _moment of weakness, okay? Everyone has them—_ but not one of them is answered. There’s a sinking feeling in her gut, one that she doesn’t even want to think of entertaining. Unfortunately for her, she has to confront it anyways. After the fifth day, she gets the message loud and clear: Beatrice is avoiding her.

Well, fuck. 

Just stick a knife through her heart won’t you, Beatrice? 

That’s fine. Ava can roll with this. 

She’s watched enough movies in her life to know the steps of how to get over a breakup—not that there was anything for them to even break up from, but the same strategy can be applied here. Trust her, she’s a professional. 

So she spends her weekend thinking of a comeback strategy. She consults her extensive collection of rom coms, meticulously taking notes—seriously, she’s never studied this hard before—to compile enough data so that she can form a plan. 

Come Monday morning, Ava enters the building in a cheery mood, ready to execute Operation: Fuck Bitches, Get Money. She even spares a greeting for her PA, Teresa, whom she rarely tries to exchange more than three words with. All in all, Ava had no doubt it was going to be a good day. She came in with a strategy and it was going to be executed perfectly. Nothing was going to get in the way of it. 

That is, until she sees today’s date. 

Her cheery mood is immediately replaced with a deep sadness that wastes no time in raking its nails up her throat, trying to claw its way out. Tears threaten to spill from her eyes and she furiously blinks them back, guilt weighing down on her chest like a 11.5 dirra thick cement block as she grapples with a horrifying realization.

The anniversary of her mother’s death was tomorrow and she _forgot._ Her mind had been so focused on Beatrice that she had forgotten her own mother. 

Every year, no matter where she was in the world, she would always spend the anniversary of her mother’s death with her. The Griffiths always took her to visit her mother’s grave. And after they had died, Vincent took her. Then, when she turned 18, she took herself there, spending a week in the same city as her mother, before turning up to her grave on the date of her death. 

But this time she forgot. 

_Fuck._

Ava doesn’t even think twice as she navigates to an airline’s webpage, booking the first flight she sees, which is set to leave in three hours. Then, she immediately phones her PA, telling Teresa to push back all of her meetings to next week as she’ll be out of town for the next four days. Teresa regretfully informs her that she cannot push back the C-suite meeting that’s tomorrow, to which Ava responds by hanging up the phone. 

Well she’s certainly not going to a fucking meeting on the anniversary of her mother’s death. Especially when said meeting involves a certain CFO who has done everything in her power to avoid Ava. Really, she should be thanking Ava for giving her an easy out on this one too. 

Ava rushes back to her apartment, haphazardly stuffs her suitcase with whatever clothes she can find, and tells her driver to get to the airport as fast as he can. She makes it there an hour before takeoff. The next fifty minutes are spent with her trying to check-in and make her way through security as fast as possible so she can get to her gate before the plane starts boarding. 

It’s only until Ava gets on the aircraft that she finally relaxes. She collapses into her seat and takes out her phone to shoot a quick text to Vincent, asking him if he can arrange transport for her when she arrives in Spain. He replies that he’ll come pick her up and to have a safe flight. Ava sighs and pockets her phone. She rests her head on the back of her seat and closes her eyes as the plane begins to take off. 

-

“Stocks are back up again,” Mary comments while looking down at her phone.

“That’s wonderful news! Ava did really well with the speech,” Camila enthusiastically replies.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lilith grumbles, flipping through her binder before their meeting begins. “Speaking of, where is she?” 

Beatrice does her best to focus on the documents in front of her, but she can’t help as her body involuntarily tenses up under Lilith’s questioning gaze. She had been doing her best to avoid the CEO after their night in Seattle, even the plane ride back had been filled with nothing but silence. Thankfully, Ava hadn’t been particularly fazed by it, in fact, she had passed out into a deep sleep as soon as the plane had taken off.

Of course, Beatrice had seen the missed calls. And the messages. While a small part of her had felt compelled to reply back, she couldn’t break away from it. Especially not where her solution was working so well. In fact, Beatrice had been more productive in the past week than she probably ever had been this entire year. She was ahead on several weeks worth of project proposals and she had already finalized the budget reviews for this year. 

So what if she had stopped by Ava’s office during after-hours? There were important files she needed to review from storage, and even while taking the path near Ava’s office meant it took more time to reach her destination, well, exercise never hurt anybody. 

Mary leans forward, finally pocketing her phone to pay attention to the meeting that had been happening around her for the past forty minutes. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen the girl all week,” she says. 

Beatrice’s brows draw together. _All week? That’s not like her._ She quickly checks her phone. There had been no new messages from Ava since Friday. 

Camila nods, “Her office was empty every time I walked past it.”

Lilith snorts. “Think she finally did a runner?”

Now _that_ was a highly unlikely possibility. Ava may have had a rocky start, but her recovery had been swift and she had been nothing but committed to the company ever since. Of course, Beatrice wouldn’t put it past Ava to enact some childish maneuver to get Beatrice to finally talk to her. This past week was proof of that. Her PA almost had to wrestle Ava to keep her from barging into her office—she makes a mental note to give Emily a pay raise, the girl had been dragged through hell trying to keep Ava out. 

Beatrice had been avoiding her all week—for good reason—and Ava may have seen that and taken it upon herself to do something about it. Their CEO certainly had a flair for the dramatic—exhibit A: Seattle, need she go one?—and Beatrice wouldn’t put it past her to not show up to their first bi-weekly C-suite meeting in an act of petty defiance. Except now, Ava’s petty move had cost them invaluable time and several thousand dollars of profit. Not only would they have to set back some of their meetings for at least a few days, if not more, but now they had to reshuffle tasks and complete the bulk of Ava’s work too. 

“Has anyone checked with Teresa?” Beatrice asks. If anyone knows the whereabouts of their wayward CEO, it’s her assistant who is way too involved in managing—if it can even be called that—her boss’s life. 

Mary barks a laugh. “Fuck no. Her PA is so dodgy about everything, you would think she’s protecting nuclear launch codes or something.”

Beatrice grimaces. She had quite a few unfortunate run-ins with Teresa, herself. 

Lilith huffs, stretching back in her seat, arms coming around to clasp behind her head. “Well, looks like we’re not going to be able to get anything else finished without our precious CEO here. Superion is not going to be happy when she reads that weekly report.” 

Camila’s face pales at the prospect of their Chairman being anything less than pleased with their performance and Beatrice can’t help but internally reciprocate the expression. Superion would definitely be having words with them the next time they met with her. 

“Maybe you can give her a call, Beatrice?” Lilith tries to sound indifferent, but the way she’s studying Beatrice betrays her tone. There’s something hidden swirling beneath Lilith’s words. In any other place and time, Beatrice would have poked the metaphorical bear, so to speak. But not now. It was best to not investigate.

Mary raises an eyebrow in interest as she looks between the two, trying to figure out what exactly is going on. Camila just quietly sighs and goes back to her laptop, realizing that this is something else she’s missed out on. 

“I left my phone in my office,” she lies. Beatrice has absolutely no intention of getting in contact with Ava anytime soon. Nothing short of the company building catching on fire would get her to face the CEO. 

Lilith grunts in response, closing her files and begins packing up, finally realizing that there’s no point in dragging this meeting out any longer. The others take it as their signal to start putting away their belongings as well, bringing an unofficial close to the incredibly unproductive meeting that just took place.

Mary and Camila say their goodbyes before heading out, each going in their own directions to complete their tasks. Lilith has her things packed, ready to follow the rest of her colleagues when she stops by the doorway. She hesitates for a brief moment before turning around to face Beatrice.

Beatrice’s eyes distractedly flicking up to consider her colleague’s unusual behavior before she shakes it off and goes back to her work.

“Are you alright?” Lilith asks, regarding her with curiosity and is that _concern?_

Beatrice blinks, fingers freezing over her keyboard as she considers Lilith’s question. “Yes, of course. Why?”

Lilith stares at her for a beat longer before finally breaking her gaze. “Right, yeah,” she replies, offering an obligatory nod before awkwardly ducking out of the room. 

-

Her mother loved the water. 

Most of Ava’s childhood memories involved the beach or the lake behind their house. Every Saturday when her mother wasn’t off chasing a story and Ava wasn’t under the care of their neighbor, they would take their small paddle boat out onto the lake—weather permitting—and spend the rest of the afternoon on the water, soaking up the sun. Her mother would read her newest article out loud to her, and little Ava would cheer on her superhero of a mother endlessly after every published piece, despite not understanding what any of it really meant. 

And while the whole investigative journalist thing had left Ava in the care of their neighbor, she found that she didn’t really mind. The neighbor in question was a sweet grandma who always baked cookies with Ava and let her play with her dog. Every once in a while, her mother would be able to take Ava on her trips, and she would soak up all the sights and experiences like a sponge. 

It was safe to say, Ava inherited that love of adventure from her mother. She was her mother’s daughter in every regard, but _especially_ that one. 

If it were up to Ava, she would have scattered her mother’s ashes by the sea, letting her mother explore the world, even after her death. But as it were, she had only seven years old, so the decision of what to do with her mother went into the hands of someone who couldn’t give a fuck about it and wasted no time in dropping her body in the most convenient cemetery. 

So here was her mother, 4000 miles from where her resting place should have been, and here was Ava, always far away, but never close enough. 

A sharp feeling of anger curdles deep in the pit of her belly. Anger at the orphanage who didn’t even consult Ava before they decided what to do with her mother. If Ava hadn’t thrown a tantrum that day, she was sure that they would have never taken her to her mother’s funeral. 

She slowly crouches down, kneeling in front of her mother’s gravestone as she carefully sets the flowers in front of it. _Are you proud of me, mama?_ She hesitantly runs her fingers over the stone, before touching the soft earth. Ava gets up from the ground, brushing off the dirt on her knees, and takes a couple steps back, eyes still locked on her mother’s grave. She’s so lost in her thoughts that she doesn’t realize that her bench is occupied, until she sits down and feels a pair of eyes on her. She stiffens, but by then it’s too late to get up and move to another bench lest she make it awkward, so she stays, shooting the man beside her a polite smile before turning her attention back to her mother. 

The man shuffles slightly before clearing his throat. “My apologies, no one else is usually here in the mornings.” 

Ava smiles bitterly. “All good, I’m usually only here a couple times a year anyways.” 

“My wife,” the man motions to a gravestone a few feet to his left. “It’s been fourteen years. I’ve made peace with the loss, but I try to visit her every week.”

 _Areala Haczyk._ Ava’s forehead creases as she racks her brain trying to figure out why that name on the gravestone sounds so familiar. She turns to look at him properly, taking note of his appearance. His hair is pulled back into a small bun, hints of gray peeking out from his beard. He’s dressed in a three-piece suit and black loafers. Then it clicks, “Any relation to Haczyk Industries?”

The man smiles gently. “The one and the same.” He holds out a hand to Ava, “Adriel Haczyk, pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss…”

Ava takes the proffered hand and shakes it. “Ava Silva,” she replies. 

“Ah,” he nods goodnaturedly. “The rightful CEO of OCS.”

Something about his comment strikes her uncomfortably. Ava scrunches her nose, “Not sure about the ‘rightful’ part, buddy.”

“No?” The man cocks his head to the side as he regards Ava with interest. “Victor and Sophia wouldn’t have handed their company to just anyone. Everything they did was backed by reason and choosing you wasn’t something they would have done on a whim.”

Ava sighs. “Everyone keeps telling me that.” She perks up with interest, realizing what exactly the other man said. “Wait, you knew them?”

He nods. “We did some business together back in the day. My wife, she was closer to them than I was, but after she passed...” He sighs, casting a wistful glance at her grave.

“I would say I’m sorry for your loss, but I hate it when people say that shit to me.” Ava turns back to face her mom. 

Adriel lets out a boisterous laugh. “Seriously! How do they expect us to respond to that? Thanks, I’m sorry, too?”

Ava nods her head vigorously, “Exactly, dude. You get me.” She crosses her arms, staring at her mother’s gravestone as they lapse into companionable silence. 

_Do you like it here, mama?_

She wonders what her mother would say about being buried two miles from the street where the car crash took place. The street that Ava has to take every time she wants to get to the cemetery. It was as if the universe was playing a cruel joke on her. 

“My mother,” she begins, her voice is low, almost a whisper, but Adriel hears her all the same. “Today marks fourteen years since I lost her.” 

Adriel bows his head in respect. “What’s loved is never lost.” He taps his chest, “She lives on in here,” then the side of his head, “and here.” 

_I almost forgot she died today,_ she wants to say. _How’s that for living on in my mind?_ Ava squints at him.“Did you take that from a book?”

Adriel throws his head back in laughter. “As a matter of fact, yes I did. If you ever catch anyone saying something wise…” 

“—I’ll know they probably ripped it off from some random children’s book,” she comments dryly. 

“They’re a gold mine,” Adriel banters. He softly clasps his hands in his lap, looking up at the cloudless sky, then at the loose gravel underneath his boots. “This is the last time I’ll be able to visit her for a while,” he admits. 

“Grief is shit,” Ava blurts out. The grief was still there, it would always be. No longer the all-consuming, drowning presence that used to pound at her in waves, but a dull throb that would never fade. All the love she never got to share with her mother stored away in her boxes of regret and longing in a small room inside her heart labeled as ‘grief.’ How’s that for compartmentalization?

Adriel snorts. “Grief _is_ shit,” He echoes with mirth.

Ava checks her watch, it’s only half past eleven, but she’s been here long enough. Maybe, she’ll visit once more before her flight leaves. She stands up, getting ready to leave. Maybe she’ll visit the bar on her way to the hotel. It’s never too early to have a drink. 

She gives Adriel a small smile. “I don’t know if we’ll see each other again, but thanks for keeping me company today.” It’s comforting to have someone else to share the grief with—someone who understands—especially on the worst day of her life. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Adriel replies, tone bleeding with sincerity. His eyes twinkle like he knows something Ava doesn’t. “And perhaps we will. The world is smaller than we like to believe.”

-

She flies back to New York on a Sunday. 

She passes time on the plane by counting the amount of alcohol she consumes. A bottle of vodka for every hour passed. It only works for the first four hours before the flight attendant cuts her off. After that, she’s forced to spend the rest of her flight enduring a pathetic buzz before she lolls off into a dreamless sleep. 

When she lands, Manhattan is cold and uninviting. As soon as she steps inside the taxi, Ava immediately starts crying, body wracking with wet, ugly sobs, much to the driver’s dismay who can’t do much except pass a tissue box through the glass partition. She makes sure to leave him a big tip for putting up with her ugly-crying and babbling. 

Her chest caves in as she finally collapses inside the apartment, letting all the pent-up sadness unleash from those tidy boxes she kept it in throughout the year. The gaping loss opens up, swallowing her whole and she feels fractured and shattered over the old all over again. Ava curls up on the ground, cheek touching cold hardwood, as she pulls her legs to her chest. 

She doesn’t know how long she stays like that, but when she gets up, it’s only to grab a bottle of the first hard liquor she sees in her minibar. Ava stumbles through the apartment, working her way through the bottle as she clutches the one photo she has of her and her mother. 

Sometime in the night, she ends up on the balcony. The Manhattan sky is always empty, devoid of any light. A hard contrast to the memory of the sky above her childhood home that always glittered with stars. The wind is harsh and biting, but she stays until her body feels numb, taking half-hearted gulps from the bottle until the liquor runs out. 

Ava wakes up to sunlight streaming in through her windows. She groans loudly, burrowing under the covers as she throws a pillow over her head to block out the bright light. It’s as if someone’s shoved her brain into a meat grinder. 

She has half a mind to skip going into the office today, but she already told Teresa she would be there, and she can’t afford to fall behind on any more paperwork than she already has unless she wants to spend her weekends there, too. 

Grudgingly, she drags herself out of bed and goes to work. When she steps out of the elevator, her PA looks like she’s going to collapse from sheer joy at the sight of her and Ava is tempted to just turn back around and take the elevator down, but she puts one foot in front of the other until she’s in her office, sitting behind her desk.

She feels raw. Spain still lingers all over her, on her clothes, in her mind, in her heart. Fresh like a gigantic bruise, mottled with grief and regret. Sharp pains shoot through her head every time she opens her eyes. _Fuck._ Ava digs the heel of her palms into her eyes until bright spots burst in her vision.

Teresa keeps shooting her concerned looks through the glass windows, despite Ava’s every attempt to avoid them. And when her assistant comes in again, offering to order the entirety of the Starbucks menu yet again, Ava decides she’s had enough and just goes to the C-suite break room to get a coffee herself.

Every step to the breakroom feels like she’s trying to walk in quicksand and by the time she makes it there, Ava feels like she wants to collapse on the ground. 

There’s a small clatter, a noise that sends a fresh stab of pain through Ava’s ears and straight to her brain.

Mary lets out a low whistle. “Jesus, you look like you went on a bender,” she comments before looking back down at her tablet. 

She chooses not to comment on that, instead stepping up to the coffee machine while she tries to locate the coffee cups. 

Lilith leans in closer to her and sniffs. “Are you—did you come here drunk?” 

Ava lets out a dull laugh, lifeless and cold, lacking everything a laugh should be filled with. “I wish,” she replies.

Another presence makes itself known and Ava’s movement stutters as she realizes who had just walked in. It had been two weeks since she had last talked to Beatrice, let alone see her. It had been two weeks since their second night together. 

She tries her best to ignore her, still rummaging through cabinets until she finally finds the styrofoam cups. The break room is deathly quiet, only punctuated by the sounds of plastic ripping as Ava unpacks the set of cups. 

“Ava?” 

She lets out a small _hm?_ but refuses to make eye contact with any of them, keeping her gaze directed at the coffee machine. She feels a pair of eyes drill holes in the back of her head, but Ava does her best to ignore it. 

“You weren’t at the meeting on Wednesday,” Camila softly points out.

Ava punches a button on the machine, sliding her cup under the spout as dark liquid starts streaming down. “I was out of town, sorry,” the sentence comes out tired, and apparently insincere if the rising tension in the room is anything to go by. 

“That meeting was _important,_ ” The tone is sharp, cutting, and not at all like the Beatrice that Ava had gotten to know. 

“I’ll be there at the next one,” Ava grits out, hoping that Beatrice takes the hint and leaves it as is.

But if anything, Beatrice comes back sharper, each word more serrated than the last. “The rest of us have to sit there, picking up your slack because you can’t be bothered to give enough warning for your untimely trips—” 

Ava slams her fist against the side of the machine, looking up at Beatrice with red-rimmed eyes. “Sorry if me visiting my dead mother’s grave was inconvenient for you. I’ll keep that in mind the next time I schedule any _untimely trips._ ” She pushes past Mary, barging out of the break room without waiting for a response. 

It’s only when Teresa’s desk comes into view that she realizes she forgot her coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here, we slow down a bit, give our girls some time to catch their breaths from that long-ass kiss they shared last time, now is when we start earning that slow-burn tag hehe. 
> 
> This is my parting gift to u all before i go to battle with finals week. Didn’t really intend this chapter to take the turn it did, but the words pick where they want to go and they decided on this.
> 
> as always drop a line down below! tell me what u think! alternatively, come yell at me on tumblr @analogoose or reach out to me on discord to scream about the angst overload
> 
> see u all soon!


	6. Necessary Compromise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ava stares. 
> 
> Beatrice stares back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello there, it's me emerging from my cave over a month later. i am terribly sorry for the incredibly late update i really thought i would get more writing done during the break but as it turns out my brain said sayonara as soon as the semester ended. 
> 
> thank u all for ur lovely comments and kudos last chapter. i had an absolute blast reading through thru them, seriously u guys are amazing. thank u all for being so patient for the next chapter. 
> 
> bc it has been so long, here's a recap: ava sad and goes to visit dead mom. ava meet adriel. bea upset. ava bea yell at each other.
> 
> and now onwards:

Ava manages to avoid them for a day.

Her outburst was...uncalled for. She’s adult enough to admit that. And that’s exactly why she had made the executive decision to hole herself away in her office for the foreseeable future—like a reasonable adult, of course. 

Unfortunately, her plan only manages to last a day and a half before flying out the window. 

It’s a Wednesday afternoon when she finally emerges from her 45th-floor sanctuary in order to answer the call of her stomach. It had gone ignored for a large part of yesterday and she did not intend on repeating that again. It was too unpleasant. 

Later on, she’ll define it as a moment of weakness. But for now, she stands next to the food truck on the corner of 11th & Perry, waiting on her long-anticipated lunch. When the attendant finally calls her name, Ava immediately bounces up to the window in anticipation, hands reaching out to meet their target: a warm chicken shawarma. She inhales, letting the smell of spiced meat, fresh vegetables, and warm pita fill her lungs. 

Once there’s a lull in traffic, she jaywalks across the intersection, beelining for the park where her favorite spot awaits. Ava settles herself, taking a seat on a bench underneath a black oak tree. She digs out her shawarma, mouth opening wide and ready to dig in when loud footsteps interrupt her and a figure noisily settles itself in the space next to Ava.

She turns, ready to give the stranger a piece of her mind only to freeze as soon as she realizes that the person sitting next to her is not at all a stranger.

Oh shit. 

Mary uses the moment of surprise to her advantage and snatches the shawarma right out of Ava’s hands, peeling back the wrapper to take an indulgent bite. 

“Hey, what the hell! That was my lunch!” 

She only raises an eyebrow in challenge before taking another bite. Meat juice dribbles down her chin and Ava grimaces in equal parts sadness and disgust. “Got a napkin?” Mary asks, not at all bothered by her companion’s reaction.

Ava just slumps back and grumpily crosses her arms, lamenting the loss of what was supposed to be a peaceful afternoon paired with a delicious lunch. 

Mary snorts. “Alright then.” She wipes off the stray sauce with her fingers before licking them. “So how long were you planning on avoiding us?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ava grumbles. She’s not going to give Mary the satisfaction of being right. She had already robbed Ava of her lunch. It would be embarrassing if she let the other woman take anything more. 

Mary sighs, putting down the food to angle herself towards Ava, one arm coming up to drape across the back of the bench. “Listen kid, no one expects you to have your shit together. But we _do_ expect you to come to us and let us know if something is wrong. Know why? We’re your team. And that means we’re here for you.” Mary studies her for a moment and it takes everything in her power not to fold in on herself under the intensity of it. She’s not sure what she’s letting Mary see, but she hopes it isn’t anything bad. “We don’t know each other that well yet, but we will. We’ll always have your back, ‘cause that’s what we’re here for. But you have to trust us. If you keep pushing everyone away, nothing is going to go right. I don’t know what happened between you and Beatrice—”

She panics. “—Nothing—”

“ _—Listen_ ,” Mary emphasizes, effectively shutting Ava up. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you and I don’t _want_ to know, but it’s really fucking obvious that something did. And it’s high time that that the two of you kissed and made up—” Ava grimaces at that, “—Because the rest of us are fucking tired of walking on eggshells around you two. It has made it really awkward for us to do our fucking jobs when the two of you can’t even stand to be in the same room as each other.”

Ava’s shoulders slump as she gives a pathetic kick to the loose gravel under her shoes. “Your concern is noted.” She swallows, “Beatrice and I will...take care of it.”

Mary nods and slaps Ava’s knee in a show of camaraderie. “Good! See to it that you do.” She gets up, making a grand gesture of stretching out her limbs. “Thanks for the lunch. I haven’t had good shawarma in a while.”

She resists the urge to demand Mary pay her back as penance for stealing her lunch and just sighs heavily, sending wistful glances at the discarded wrapper that once held what would have been an amazing lunch. 

-

Her pen rapidly bounces up and down on the corner of her legal pad, body thrumming with anticipation. They’re all seated in the boardroom, waiting for the arrival of their new board member that is meant to replace Duretti. Last she heard of the old man, he was serving ten years in prison for corporate abuse and accounting fraud. Despite the plea deal he had been forced to sign, citing that he would forfeit all of his assets to pay back the company, the Board was still in talks with the lawyers to up his sentence to 15 if not 20 years. 

They were angry. 

To keep the company stable, the Board had immediately started looking for Duretti’s replacement as soon as his actions had hit the news. And it seems like they had finally found one as the new member was due to arrive any moment now. Everyone was seated around the table, buzzing with energy. 

Like last time, Ava was seated right across from Beatrice. She was doing her best to avoid looking at the other woman and it seems like Beatrice was doing the same by engaging in conversation with Camila, doing everything in her power to prevent her gaze from wandering over to Ava’s side. 

That’s fine.

This was fine. 

The two seats on Ava’s left remain dreadfully empty so she’s forced to instead stare at her legal pad unless she wanted to call upon Pearson as a possible conversation partner who is sitting much too far away from her to even be considered a candidate for conversation but this meeting still hasn’t started and she’s getting _desperate_. 

There’s an audible click at the door, and the room immediately falls quiet. She’s filled with a sharp feeling of deja vu—of a moment when _she_ was the one behind that door. The double doors swing wide open with Vincent striding in first to lead their newest board member. The first thing that she notices about their newest addition is the familiar man bun that rests on the back of his head. His beard is well-trimmed with speckles of salt-and-pepper hair that sharply outline his jaw. He’s tall and dressed impeccably in a deep blue three-piece suit that tugs at the edge of her memory. When the mystery man turns to face the front of the room, Ava’s eyebrows immediately shoot up. 

Adriel?

_“The world is smaller than we like to believe.”_

Small world, indeed. 

She lets out an amused snort, the odd noise turning a few heads towards her—notably Beatrice’s—but she’s only focused on Adriel whose eyes glitter with that knowing look. She cocks her head and Adriel sends her a wink before breaking eye contact to shake hands with Superion.

He walks over, claiming the empty seat next to Ava and Superion calls order to the room and begins the meeting. “Welcome everyone. I am pleased to announce our newest board member, Adriel Haczyk. I am sure most of you in this room are familiar with him as OCS has done business with Haczyk Industries in the past.” Superion’s mouth thins for a moment before smoothening out, “I’m sure he will prove to be a very useful ally for us so please welcome him.” 

The room breaks out into polite applause and Adriel stands up, brushing a hand over his suit jacket. “Thank you, Chairman. I’m incredibly glad to have the opportunity to join this wonderful community. The older the ones in this room know me from my late wife, Areala. For the ones that don’t, I hope we can get to know each other better as we work alongside each other. I’m a big believer in the belief that _teamwork makes the dream work._ I am here to ensure your success and the company’s success as we all move forward and I have faith that OCS will continue to do the good it has always done.”

“Corny,” Ava mumbles under her breath as soon as Adriel reclaims his seat. “Where did you get that one from? Wait let me guess...Billboard on 3rd advertising an insurance company.”

Adriel’s mouth tugs up into a grin. “Close. Dentist’s office on Park and 47th. Featured Samuel Jackson standing behind the Avengers.”

She stifles her laughter, trying to mask it into a cough to prevent Superion from noticing. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Beatrice eyeing them with curiosity before quickly averting her eyes. 

As Superion moves on to the boring parts of the meeting, Ava keeps her attention to the man beside her who is admittedly more entertaining and is already putting her in better spirits. She leans in, making sure to keep her voice low. “You didn’t tell me,” she whispers, referring to their first meeting featuring a shared bench under a cold Spanish morning.

“I did not think it was the right time.” He shifts in his seat, “And the contract I signed prevented me from disclosing the news until after today’s meeting.” 

“Bureaucracy,” she mutters under her breath.

Adriel’s chest rumbles with low laughter. “Bureaucracy,” he echoes. 

On Adriel’s other side, Vincent leans over, giving them both a _look_ to urge them to stay silent until the end of the meeting. No one wants to be on the receiving end of Superion’s wrath. 

Adriel claps his shoulder goodnaturedly like one does with old friends and Ava looks at him in surprise, eyes moving between the two men to take in the ease at which they interact with each other. “What else haven’t you told me?”

“Stay after the meeting and you’ll find out.”

Curiosity fully piqued, Ava’s resolve to get out of this meeting increases two-fold. The rest of the hour passes by in a dull haze with Superion exchanging information about next quarter and the company’s projections. Ava dutifully takes notes and even adds in her own thoughts when necessary—this is her job after all, may as well get used to the notion of _actually_ paying attention to the board meeting—with small pauses in between to steal glances at Beatrice when she’s not looking. 

At the end of the meeting, Superion gives everyone a stern reminder about recent events and then proceeds to vaguely threaten them should they turn out to be another Duretti before finally dismissing them. 

Ava takes her time packing up her belongings as the rest of the members filter out of the room. Off to the side, Adriel exchanges a few quiet words with Vincent before bidding him goodbye. In her peripheral, she sees Beatrice lingering by the doorway, glancing in Ava’s direction before leaving. 

Once everyone has cleared out, Adriel spins his chair and turns to her. Ava sits ready.

“Vincent and I are old friends. We go back.” He leans back, arms coming up behind to clasp his head.

Ava squints at him. “How old?”

Adriel gives a mischievous grin. “Since our boarding school days.”

“Seriously?”

He nods. “He was the shy new kid, I was the popular head boy that welcomed him into the fray.” 

“Why do I get the feeling that if I asked him, his version would be different?” She asks, crossing her arms skeptically. A smile plays at her lips. 

Adriel laughs. “Alright, the truth then. I was the head boy of my grade but I was also a bit of a loner. Although that didn’t stop me from getting into trouble. Your uncle was the one to seek me out. He got me out of some difficult situations and we formed a fast friendship.”

“He flew to Spain for you.” It’s not a question, she’s only confirming her thoughts. Looking back, it’s obvious that the ‘investor’ Vincent had referred to during their dinner was none other than Adriel. 

Adriel shrugs. “I had some business to take care of—loose ends and things—before coming here. He came to help me out.”

Ava hums, nodding thoughtfully as she catalogues everything. “You didn’t ask me to stay back just to discuss your friendship with Uncle V.” 

Adriel’s mouth twitches upwards. “You’re sharp. I knew there was a reason they picked you.” He reaches down to his bag, hand rifling through it before he grabs a file and lightly throws it on the table. “I wanted to talk to you about a project.” 

She leans forward and flips open the file, eyes scanning through the information. It’s an old OCS project that never got off the ground. It was shut down 14 years ago for reasons unknown to her. She peruses through the schematics, featuring a big metal ring that was the size of a dinner plate. “The HALO? This was shut down because they had catalogued it as too unstable and risky.”

Adriel taps at the picture. “I see potential here, Ava. I think it would do us good to revisit this project.” 

She flips through some more pages. “Despite the risk it presents?”

“Come on! You know there is little reward without risk.” She rolls her eyes at another one of his sayings. “Think about it. This project has the potential to to change lives. For the better. The applications of such technology is endless. HALO has the potential to be used as an energy source—”

“—Like a knockoff arc reactor? Didn’t think we’d be bringing Stark Industries to life.” 

Adriel scoffs. “Hardly knockoff. I would argue that it’s even more advanced. A simple metal ring able to power a building. Or a city,” his eyes gleam. 

She exhales. It’s an amazing project, Adriel is right. It would do good for them to explore it but there’s too many unknowns. “Metal that we have a _limited_ supply of. Metal that isn’t even metal because we literally don’t even know the composition of this substance. I mean, we can’t even mine this stuff because it’s nowhere to be found.” 

Adriel grins. “We’re not the only ones who keep a stock of Divinium in storage. If this project takes off the ground, I have contacts I can reach out to help us procure more.” She can’t help but already feel swayed. This would be the perfect project—the perfect start for her as the new CEO. It would help establish not only her image but also the company’s, especially after their recent fiasco. This would bring them good publicity. “And think, even the biomedical applications—there was preliminarily research done that suggested that this project could even help veterans and others regain function of their limbs, but of course we’ll never find out because—”

“Alright, I hear you.” She was already on board the minute he had mentioned a new project, she just dreaded the tasks that would come with it. “I’ll need to talk to the team about this. _And_ get Superion’s approval.” Ava sighs despondently. She was planning on never having to be alone with the Chairman ever again, but it seems that was too good to be true.

“I have every bit of faith in you. Martiana will say yes.” He nudges her enthusiastically. 

Ava eyes him dubiously. “If you say so,” she mutters, feeling anything but confident.

-

“What do we think of our newest addition?”

Beatrice nurses her second cup of coffee in the break room. As soon as the meeting had concluded, the C-suites had all met up to discuss what would happen next—with the exception of Ava, who she was still avoiding. _For good reason,_ she reminded herself. It wouldn’t do any good to cater to distractions—new additions like this tended to cause a bit of friction, especially with an unknown such as Adriel Hacyzk it was hard to predict his motives. Recent events had left everyone on edge. 

“He’s smart. Has the potential to be dangerous. As of yet, we don’t know his intentions with the company.” Lilith succinctly responds.

“There was a rumor he was responsible for his wife’s death.” Camila adds, fiddling with her glasses. 

“I’ve never put much stock in rumors and mindless gossip.” Mary says, mindlessly opening and closing cabinets looking for...whatever it was she was looking for. Beatrice knew it was best not to question. She would never get a straight answer from her anyways. 

“Wouldn’t put it past him,” Lilith mumbles, “These corporate-types are slimy.”

“ _You’re_ a corporate-type.” Mary counters. 

“Point being?” 

“Guys,” Beatrice cuts in, breaking up what was looking to be the start of a very _nasty_ fight between Mary and Lilith. “We should hold on passing judgement. But,” she acquiesces, “it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on him.”

“Once bitten twice shy.”

“Ava seems friendly with him,” Camila points out. 

“And we trust Ava’s judgement?” Mary responds, skepticism flooding her tone. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the girl, but I don’t think we should start taking pointers from her anytime soon.” 

“Or ever,” Lilith mutters and Beatrice can’t help but shoot her a look. 

She had noticed Ava and Adriel talking to each other during the meeting. It was hard not to. It wasn’t like they were being conspicuous about it. And Ava had all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop. Beatrice was actually surprised Superion hadn’t called them out for it. Then, the meeting had ended and everyone except Adriel and Ava had left—wasn’t that just _interesting._

If someone were to threaten the standing of their company, the first thing they would need to do is get the executives to turn on each other. _Divide and conquer._ If she was in Adriel’s shoes and had ulterior motives for OCS, the first person she would target would be the CEO.

A CEO that she was actively avoiding. 

Her stomach curdles unpleasantly, but Ava isn’t her problem anymore. And besides, no matter how much of a protective urge she was feeling, Ava was capable enough to look out for herself. She didn’t need anyone to look over her shoulder. 

It was time to cut this line of thinking. It wouldn’t do her any good to continue on this route and entertain any more thoughts about Ava. Beatrice deposits her empty mug in the sink and picks up her portfolio. “I have some work I need to finish before the day is over. I’ll see you all later.” That’s all she says before exiting the break room, quickly making her way towards her office. 

There’s some shuffling, then a faint sound of accompanying footsteps that grow closer and closer until they’re right behind her. 

“You know what they say about dipping the pen into company ink,” Lilith says in a low voice.

There’s a slight hitch in her step but her face remains unchanged. 

Lilith sighs before speeding up to fall in line with her. “I’m not here to mock you—”

“—Then don’t.” Beatrice bites back in a hard tone.

“—but I haven’t been the only one who has noticed how pathetically awkward the two of you have been. Granted, I had the unfortunate advantage of seeing you leave from her room in Seattle— _yes,_ I noticed—and while the others haven’t caught on, they’re bound to. The water cooler talk is getting exceptionally boring now that the whole Duretti clusterfuck has died down. And you know how much the peons love to speculate about exec drama so it’s only a matter of time before rumors start flying around.”

Beatrice stops right outside her door, pinching the bridge of her nose before finally turning to face Lilith. “Then what would you have me do?”

Lilith shrugs. “Talk to her.”

Beatrice gapes at her.

“I’m serious. It’s better for the both of you if you stop avoiding _it_ and just...clear the air. Or whatever.”

Beatrice opens her door and walks in to drop her portfolio on the coffee table. She fixes Lilith with an exasperated look, mulling it over. It’s a simple solution. But one that asks a lot from her. “I’ll consider it,” she replies.

Lilith gives a nod, knowing that’s the closest to a ‘yes’ she’ll get from Beatrice. “That’s all I ask.” She leans against the doorway, fiddling with her cufflinks for a moment before looking out the windows in the far end of Beatrice’s office. “You know, out of everyone, I thought you’d be the last to break the company rules.” She turns to Beatrice, scanning her face. “What is it about her?”

Beatrice shuts the door in her face. 

-

Sharp reds and oranges trailblaze across the sky as the sun approaches the horizon. Beatrice looks out at the city before her, fingers drumming her desk impatiently. She clicks her pen once. That’s enough. She stands up, not even bothering to push her chair in before exiting her office. Her strides are purposeful, carrying her away from the safe, Ava-free space of her office and to—

“—Beatrice—”

“—Ava—” 

Ava stares. 

She stares back.

“Um,” Ava clears her throat. “I was actually on my way to see you.”

Oh. Well that certainly made things easier.

“And I, you,” Beatrice says. If she attempts to string together anything more than three words at the moment, the world will surely crack in half. This was not how she envisioned this interaction going. She had a plan. A plan that was no longer applicable now that she had been ambushed. 

“Oh good, um,” She looks around, helplessly lost. Beatrice desperately wants to throw her a lifeline but she, too, is unable to function properly at the moment. Ava gestures to the conference room they’ve stopped in front of. 

“Can we?”

“Of course.” She holds the glass door open for Ava, ushering her in with a tight smile before following suit. 

They stand around the room, unsure of where to begin. She can tell Ava is getting antsy with the way she keeps glancing around the room, eyes trying to look anywhere but at Beatrice. Unfortunately, Beatrice isn’t doing much better, either. 

“I apologize—”

“—I’m sorry.” 

They both look at each other with surprise. Beatrice politely motions for her to go ahead.

“Sorry, I—You were right. I was neglecting my responsibilities and I’m sorry that you all had to stay late-nights to make up for my irresponsible behavior. It was incredibly unprofessional of me.” Ava looks down for a moment before meeting Beatrice’s gaze. “And I’m sorry for yelling at you in front of our colleagues. That was, also, unprofessional.”

Beatrice’s shoulders slump, the weight of the past two weeks finally catching up to her. Her reaction was...unprofessional. She was so unused to letting her emotions get the best of her. That never happened. Until now. Until Ava. “I apologize as well, Ava. I should never have spoken to you like that. I had no idea you were—”

Ava shakes her head. “—No, no Beatrice, you couldn’t have known. OCS comes first, I get that. I have so many people I’m responsible for now and I guess I’m just a little unused to it. That’s not an excuse, I’m just—” She swallows. “Anyways, I’m really sorry.” 

Beatrice nods. “I am sorry as well. For my...recent behavior towards you.” She grips the edge of the table, “You did not deserve that.” 

Ava nods, letting out a loud exhale and collapses into the nearest chair. Beatrice does the same, albeit a bit more gracefully. She purses her lips, waiting. For what? Unclear. Perhaps for a way out of this awkward silence.

“Oh! Um,” Ava sheepishly grins, rummaging through her bag before sliding a folder across the table. Beatrice takes it, glancing at her curiously before opening the file. “It’s an old OCS project that was shut down before it had a chance to take off. Adriel thinks it might do us some good to reopen it. I just wanted you to take a look at it, maybe see if we could allocate a budget.”

Beatrice hums, only slightly tensing at the mention of Adriel. She clears her throat, keeping her eyes on the file in front of her. “You and Adriel seem quite friendly.”

Ava perks up. “Oh yeah, we met in Spain. At the cemetery. Then we ended up bonding, you know shared grief and all that.” She grimaces, “I didn’t know that he would be joining us, otherwise I would have said something to you guys.” She shifts in her chair, looking vaguely lost and out of place before that expression is quickly wiped away and replaced with nonchalance. “But anyways, he seems like a chill guy.”

Beatrice smiles hesitantly before looking down at the papers before her. As much as she’s loath to admit, Adriel did have the right idea. This project would make them look good. They would really benefit from the kind of PR this could generate. And it’s no secret that they desperately needed good press now more than ever. “It’s a good idea,” she begins. “This project has merit. I’m sure I can draft up a feasible budget for it before we present it to Superion.”

Ava sags with relief. “Good. That’s good.” 

Awkward silence descends on them once again. Ava sits, twiddling her thumbs while Beatrice looks through the file again under the guise of doing something to distract herself from...whatever this was. These were uncharted waters and she was having all the trouble in the world navigating them, so forgive her if she was looking for an easy out.

“Beatrice,” Ava begins, nervousness apparent in her tone. She tears her gaze away from the paper and looks up, unable to help the small twitch of her lips as she watches Ava’s face scrunch up into an ~~adorable~~ expression. Just an expression. 

The other woman takes a deep breath, steeling herself and it’s clear that she’s building up to something and Beatrice can’t help but brace for impact. “Vincent and the Board wants us to be this formidable CEO-CFO duo and I want that too; I think we’d make an amazing team. But we can’t be that if we can’t even be in the same room with each other without this—” Ava makes an incomprehensible gesture at the space between them “—so I—This is me asking for another chance. To be better.” 

At Beatrice’s slightly perturbed look she runs her hand through her hair, pausing for a moment. “Do you play golf?” Beatrice shakes her head. “Neither do I, but I remember Victor taking me out to the fields one time. Usually, in golf if your first stroke goes bad, you’re allowed to call for a Mulligan and try again, no penalty. So that’s what I’m doing here. I’m trying again. I’m calling for a Mulligan. Do you get what I’m saying?” She reaches out an arm, face so open and hopeful as she sits across from Beatrice.

Beatrice’s breath catches in her throat. _Oh._ Suddenly it makes sense. Ava is nervous of her offer being rejected. Of Beatrice choosing the option of continuing this charade of awkwardness between them instead of Ava’s offer for a do-over. Her chest grows tight. She glances at Ava then at the hand outstretched in front of her. “I think I understand,” she breathes out.

And against all better judgement, she reaches out and accepts it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo!! we're officially halfway thru the fic! big turning point and lotsa fun things coming. honestly u can probably expect more regular updates from me now that my new semester starts tomorrow. i only seem to be capable of writing when im not supposed to be. 
> 
> i would love to hear what u guys thought of this ch in the comments down below so pls dont be a stranger! 
> 
> alternatively if u think i've committed any crimes reach out to me on tumblr @analogoose or on discord
> 
> see u all soon!


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